No Man's Land
by jmd0820
Summary: A seemingly innocent case takes a dark turn. See author's notes on story for more details.
1. Prologue

No Man's Land

"_You are in no man's land. Which never moves, which never changes, which never grows older, but remains forever, icy and silent." ~ Harold Pinter_

This story is set in a season 5ish timeline. There may be alterations for the story to work. Since I never really know what season the show is in, this story is set in winter. For the sake of this reality, Vic isn't pregnant. Other events are subject to change as needed as this story veers from canon into AU.

There is some violence and uncomfortable situations in this story.

Prologue

_Walt stood at the window. His hand pushed back the thin, floral curtains that reeked of dust, age, and something he couldn't quite name. Sunshine streamed in through the small crack. The window itself badly needed cleaning. It was smudged with all manner of dirt and who knew what else. But, he could see well enough. The whitish, concrete sidewalk outside the room was empty. He didn't see a solitary soul. Nor did he hear any voices. _

_The motel walls were thin and alien conversations had seeped through them all night to varying degrees. After a while, it simply became background noise in the cacophony of his own thoughts. He sighed and let the curtains fall back into place. The light breeze the movement created sent thin particles of dust scattering into the air._

_Walt turned away from the window. It was a standard, inexpensive room like you would find at any roadside resting place. The furniture was basic and there were no frills. There were two double beds with a table between them. In the corner, there was a chair of questionable age that once may have matched the curtains._

_His blue eyes drifted back to the bed. One sat, unused and neatly made. The comforter was pulled tight and tucked underneath the two pillows. The other bed was the opposite. The comforter was carelessly tossed so that it dragged the slightly stained carpet. A white sheet that reeked of bleach was pulled up partially over the figure on the bed._

_She was on her side and facing away from him. Her blond hair was spread out around her in long strands. She was slightly curled, with her knees pulled up. One arm was tucked somewhere under her, while the other rested on the bed up near her face. Every so often, her fingers would twitch slightly._

_Walt's gaze moved over her back. The sheet stopped at her abdomen. Her skin was pale in the odd hue of the room. There were no lights on and the curtains were drawn, but it was also the middle of the day. It created a muted, foggy atmosphere in the room, but not darkness. Bruises dotted her back and the upper part of her visible arm. Seeing the angry dark splotches against her otherwise unmarred skin still stoked a rage in his stomach. _

_A low groan escaped her. Walt held his breath and willed her to stay asleep. He promised he would keep her safe. That was on the only way she would relax and let down her guard. He assured her that he would watch over her. It was something he had failed at recently. Her fingers twitched again. Walt could still feel those same fingertips run lightly over the skin of his shoulders and back. He could remember the force they exerted when he would move a certain way or hit a certain spot and she gripped at him, holding on as though he were a life preserver keeping her afloat._

_He swallowed and tried to clear his mind. When he was satisfied that she wasn't about to wake up, he returned to his vigil at the window. _

_This time, he would keep his promise._

**One Week Earlier**

"Jesus, Walt, really?"

Walt sighed heavily under Vic's aggravated gaze. At least, this time, she wasn't mad. Not very mad anyway. She stood in front of his desk, with one hand on her hip, her eyes boring a hole into him. Her tone gave away the resentment and frustration he could practically feel rolling off of her in waves.

"Ferg is out near Powder River helping a distressed motorist."

It was a weak explanation. But, it was the only one he had. With only the three of them, they were understaffed and overworked. With the inclement weather, it was stretching them to the limit. They were all tired and grumpy.

Vic's eyes shifted to the window. Swirls of snow were still covering Absaroka with a cold blanket of snow. Thick snow.

"God, I hate winter here."

Her tone changed and he could hear the concession and defeat that took up residence there.

"It snows in Philly."

She shook her head, keeping her eyes on the window.

"It's different out here."

Walt pushed up out of his chair and pulled on his coat. He reached for his hat and pushed it low on his head. Vic sighed her displeasure and disappeared through his office door. He could hear her zipping her duty jacket. He took his time leaving his office and giving her an extra minute to cool off. When he finally emerged, she had added a dark green knit hat to her ensemble and tugged it down low, covering her ears and most of her hair. A few blond wisps escaped. Walt's eyes settled on one.

"Ready?"

He both heard and didn't hear her. His eyes were still fixated on the loose hair that curled around one ear.

"Walt?"

The sharpness of his name on her tongue snapped him out of it.

"Yeah?"

She was studying him with narrowed eyes.

"Are you ready?"

She said it slowly, enunciating each word as though he didn't speak English. Walt felt red creep up his neck. He rarely indulged the desire to simply look at her any more. It seemed like an unnecessary risk. Some days, she was quiet. Other days, he feared she would call him out on it in a heartbeat if she noticed him staring at her.

"Yeah, let's go."

The streets of Durant were blessedly empty. With a cold front and snow storm settling over their part of Wyoming, the days leading up were full of the normal buzz and activity as people prepared and stocked up on the necessities. The increase in activity also multiplied their workload as lines grew long and patience grew short.

Now, in the midst of the actual storm, an uneasy lull was settling in amongst the population. The few vehicles out on the road were mostly people going to and from work. Thankfully, most everyone else was home, watching the snow from the safety and comfort of their own homes.

When the call came in about an abandoned truck, Walt couldn't have said what possessed him to tell her to come along with him. It was something he could've easily checked out on his own. Maybe it was their lack of communication lately or the fact that a gulf wider than the Grand Canyon seemed to exist between them these days.

Things were improving little by little. But the pace was slow. Slower than Walt would've liked. He missed the relationship and camaraderie that existed between them once upon a time. Before Branch was killed. Before he pushed her away, despite her obvious interest in him since her marriage crumbled like a weak sand castle with waves pounding it. Before he was shot.

He knew the thing with Donna hurt her. He knew her well enough to read it on her face even as she denied it. He hadn't thought it would bother her. He assumed she was with Eamonn. That was looking more and more like a miscalculation. Since the shooting, he seemed to be making more of those.

Where once he was able to read her fairly easily, she now seemed more like a stranger. And he hated it. But, he also didn't know how to go about repairing all the damage they'd done.

So, he sat in the never ending no man's land between what he had and what he wanted.

xxx

Vic sat in the Bronco, her eyes focused on the snow falling around them. She could hear the slap of his windshield wipers fighting off the snow with a steady rhythm. She had no idea why on earth he insisted she come with him. Surely one of them should've stayed at the office in case some other call came in. She would have gladly volunteered.

An abandoned truck?

What the fuck?

Something that mundane didn't generally require two people. Silence stretched out between them in the Bronco. She hated this particular brand of silence. It was uncomfortable and tense. It made her want to crawl under her seat and hide there until she could escape him and the quiet way he watched her.

Once her marriage was over, she would've gladly moved on with Walt. She thought he knew that. She thought it was also what he wanted. Now, she had no clue what on earth it was that Walt Longmire wanted from her. Or didn't want. She had just about given up trying to figure out that mystery. A heart could only take so many hits.

First, he acted like he did want her around in more than a professional capacity. He delivered divorce papers to her and told her he wanted her to stay in his serious, sincere way. The way that made her feel confident in her choices. Then, all of a sudden, he pulled back. Some darkness descended over him and he shut her out of his life. Out of his thoughts. She didn't care to be the one looking in on his life where she had once been an active participant.

Then, he actually acted jealous of Eamonn. Jealous? He was the one who barely spoke to any of them for weeks. Was she just supposed to sit around and wait for him to get his head out of his ass? Even then, she felt like she tried. She offered to talk about things with him. He resorted to his tried and true method of answering with one syllable words and retreating into his mind.

The final straw was Donna Monaghan. When he thought she was with Eamonn, he acted like a territorial animal skulking around. But, it was okay for him to fall all over himself for a psychiatrist that they were actually investigating in a crime? Vic hid the hurt with sarcasm and smartass comments. But, that one hurt.

A lot.

Now, she had no idea what was happening in his life.

She wasn't sure she wanted to.

And she was sure she wanted to.

It made her insides feel as mixed up as the large snowflakes blowing around in the snow, never really settling until they hit the ground.

Vic glanced across the Bronco at him. His jaw was tight and his eyes were fixed on the snowy road ahead of them. His posture was stiff and he seemed so unlike the Walt she knew so well. The Walt she missed.

Vic redirected her attention back out her window.

The snow continued to fall.

xxx

_Walt gave up his sentry post at the window. It was quiet. He was satisfied it would stay that way. He knew there were Feds out there anyway. He saw them flitting around earlier. They didn't like him. Didn't like the way he hovered over her and kept them at bay. One actually likened him to a guard dog pacing back and forth._

_He didn't care what they thought. Keeping her safe was all that mattered to him. Helping her heal and get through this. Beyond it. Those were the things that were important to him. The rest of them could do whatever they wanted._

_Those were the things he failed to do after her encounter with Chance Gilbert. He should've pushed her harder. Should've required her to seek help. She was his responsibility and he had missed all the signs that she needed help._

_She moved on the bed and it drew his attention. Her head shifted from side to side and her eyelids fluttered. Walt walked over slowly and sat down on the edge of the bed, watching her emerge slowly from the grip of sleep. Her eyes cracked open and looked around, confusion and something else filling her face._

_Maybe fear._

_Concern._

_She stretched a little, rolling to her back and raising her arms above her head. Walt watched it unfold like the most beautiful thing he had ever witnessed. She pressed her eyes closed one more time and then opened them all the way. It took her less than five seconds to see him sitting there beside her, watching her with an unflinching intensity. _

_Her eyes met his and held them. A slow smile crossed her face._

"_Hey."_

_Walt returned the smile. He was powerless not to._

"_Hey."_

_She pushed up onto her elbows and looked towards the window._

"_How long was I asleep?"_

_Walt shrugged a little._

"_Couple of hours."_

_He extended one hand and tucked some errant hair behind her ear. She shifted her face into his touch and closed her eyes. The sound she made reminded him of a cat purring. Without any forethought, he leaned forward and kissed her while her eyes were still closed. She responded immediately. Her cool palms moved up and cradled his face._

_The sudden urge to press her flat on her back washed over him. Walt forced it down. He pulled back, hovering just over her._

"_Are you hungry?"_

_Her eyes lit up at the mention of food._

"_You know I am."_

_He smiled again, his voice soft when he spoke._

"_I know. But…I don't want you to overdo it and make yourself sick."_

_She nodded in acknowledgement._

"_I know."_

_His eyes roamed over her face._

"_Want me to order us something?"_

_She smiled._

"_Please."_

_He could almost feel the affection seeping from him._

"_Okay."_

_He kissed her forehead and then moved away from her. Once his back was to her and his attention shifted to the room service menu, he heard the bed creak as she got up. Her bare feet padded across the carpet and the bathroom door closed behind her. He lifted the ancient phone from its cradle and dialed. In the background were the sounds of Vic in the bathroom, running water and moving around._

_She came out maybe ten minutes later. He wasn't really keeping track. She looked like she had showered. Again. She also wore his faded denim shirt, buttoned up and sleeves rolled up nearly to her elbows. She combed her fingers through her hair. _

"_Food here?"_

_Walt shook his head and stood up from his perch on the bed._

"_Not yet."_

_She moved by him towards the window. As she did, her hand brushed over the soft material of his t-shirt where it stretched across his back, pulling taut. Her touch was like a whisper passing over him. She glanced out the window, squinting in the sun._

"_What time is it?"_

_Walt looked at his watch._

"_A little after two."_

_Vic moved away from the window and turned to him with a curious expression._

"_What did you order?"_

"_Fruit."_

_She eyed him._

"_Since when do you like fruit that much?"_

_The edges of his mouth turned up in a half smile._

"_Since you need something good to eat. Not junk."_

_She started to reply when a knock sounded on the door. Despite her best attempts, she stiffened at the sound. Jumped a little. A voice called from outside._

"_Room service."_

_Walt glanced out the window to confirm it was room service. Vic could see the small gun tucked into the back of his jeans. He opened the door only as far as necessary. Light streamed in through the open door, casting light across the faded carpet. Walt pulled some bills from his back pocket and counted them out for a tip._

_He balanced the tray in one hand and closed the door with the other, locking both the knob and the chain before he turned away. He pulled the gun from his waistband and laid it carefully on the bedside table. The take out tray he set down on the bed. Vic sat down cross legged on the bed. She pulled the lid off the tray and smiled a little._

"_Looks good."_

_Walt smiled. He watched as she plucked a strawberry from the bowl and bit into it. A bit of red juice ran down her chin. She swiped at it with her hand as she chewed and grabbed at a napkin. She wiped her mouth and set the remnants of her berry aside. She looked across the bed at Walt._

"_Aren't you hungry?"_

_He was again guilty of staring at her._

"_Yeah."_

_He nodded and helped himself to a piece of melon. It was oddly refreshing, despite the chilly temperatures outside. Different than what they normally ate. He knew she needed the nutrition. Vic fished out a grape and popped the entire thing in her mouth. Walt was sure he would be fine just watching her eat. She bit into another strawberry. Walt again saw the slight bit of juice dribble down her chin. She reached for her napkin but his hand reached out and closed over hers, stopping her. She gave him a wide eyed look. He slid the tray out of his way and leaned forward, pressing his mouth over the juice on her chin. His tongue swiped over her skin, tasting the sweetness. He paused and then kissed her lips, again tasting the fruit she had just eaten. _

_He deepened the kiss, his mind racing and his body giving in to the urges he was tired of fighting. Vic was more than willing to grant him the access he sought and her lips parted. He moved over her, pushing her back onto the bed. Her hands landed on his back and bunched up in the t-shirt he wore. His own hands pulled the top two snaps of the shirt she wore free allowing him to bury his face in her neck and chest. Vic squirmed under him. His hands roamed down to her legs and started to slide up her thighs, taking his shirt with them._

_She brought her knees up around him and squeezed. Walt pulled away from her and sat up on his knees. He looked down and his hands clumsily tugged at his belt trying to free it._

**One Week Earlier**

"Who leaves a truck sitting way the hell out here?"

Walt and Vic walked slowly around the vehicle. Walt's hands were stuffed deep into his pockets, fighting the chill. Snow was collecting on his hat. Walt scraped at the ground with his boot.

"It's not really off the road. Guess that's why someone called it in. Lucky no one has hit it already with this limited visibility."

Vic rubbed her gloved hands together and shook her head.

"So…we pull it off the road? No one is sending a tow truck out in this mess."

Walt nodded.

"I think the Bronco can do it. If nothing else…we'll clear the roadway. We'll leave a warning on it to move it or we will tow it as soon as this weather lets up."

He turned and opened up the back of his bronco, pulling out the chains he would need. Vic started the Bronco and moved into positon. In normal weather, it was a straightforward job. In the snow and cold, it took longer than either of them cared for. Finally, Walt was satisfied with the chains. He gave Vic the signal and she pressed the gas. For a few seconds, he didn't think the Bronco would be able to get the traction it needed. Just as he was about to tell her to stop, the abandoned truck started to roll. Walt watched as she inched forward carefully, taking the truck with her. Once she was safely clear of the road, Walt waved a hand and she stopped, cutting the engine.

Walt was removing the chains when she got around to the back. He glanced up at her.

"Can you stick a warning on it and write down the tag number? Maybe we can get in touch with the owner."

She nodded.

"Sure."

Walt's eyes lingered. Her cheeks and nose were red from the cold. She turned away and busied herself with the task, not paying him much attention. He could hear Vic opening and closing the Bronco doors and talking low to herself. As he moved to put the chains back into the cargo area of the Bronco, the snow crunched under her feet as she made her way back to the abandoned truck.

"Hey, Walt."

Walt glanced over his shoulder.

"Yep?"

"Come here."

There was something in her voice that grabbed him. Walt found her standing, look in at the windshield.

"What's up?"

She gestured at the windshield.

"Look."

Walt leaned over and peered in. There on the bench seat of the truck was a length of rope, along with a white sheet with crimson colored stains on it.

"That look like blood to you?"

Walt looked in closer.

"Could be."

He straightened up and studied the truck, considering his next move. He reached out and pulled on the door handle.

"It's locked. Already tried."

He nodded and looked around. Vic walked around the truck. Walt followed her, following her line of sight. She pointed.

"The rear window is cracked a little. If we can open it, we can get in."

Walt grimaced.

"You can get in. I won't fit through there."

He thought he saw a trace of a smile dance across her face before she grew serious. She lowered the tailgate and they climbed up. Walt placed his hands on the sliding window and pushed. After a bit of resistance the panes slid apart. Walt stood back. Vic looked at the narrow opening.

"That's tight."

She pulled her gloves off and tucked them into the pocket of her duty jacket. Next, she unzipped her jacket and shrugged it off. She handed it off to Walt.

"Here."

He took it and watched her start to squeeze through the window. She grunted a few times and readjusted but she was able to wedge herself through and into the cab of the truck. She carefully slid across the seat and unlocked the door. Walt jumped down from the truck bed and handed Vic her jacket back.

"Good work."

She smiled a little as she pulled her jacket on.

"Thanks."

She pulled a pair of latex gloves from her pocket and tugged them on before she began to look through the truck.

"Shit."

Walt pressed in.

"What?"

Vic lifted the sheet with her gloved hands.

"Pretty sure this is blood. Looks like there's some on the rope, too. Can you get me some bags for this stuff?"

He nodded and walked quickly to the Bronco, a new sense of urgency settling in. He passed the evidence bags off to Vic and she carefully placed the items in them. She looked inside again and then leaned back, blowing her hair out of her face.

"Walt, it looks like there might be more on the seat and floorboards. Shit…this whole truck looks like a crime scene."

Walt chewed on the inside of his cheek thoughtfully.

"We're gonna have to have it towed. Can't risk someone coming back."

Vic closed the truck door and pulled the gloves off her hands.

"You think someone'll agree to come out in this?"

He held out his hand and she passed him her phone as he pushed his hat back a little.

"They're gonna have to."

xxx

_She was sleeping again, tucked into the warmth of his body. Walt managed to maneuver himself in a positon that allowed him to watch her sleep. It didn't seem as peaceful as he hoped, but at least she was getting some rest. He wanted to memorize every moment of this. There was no way to know what was going to happen once they went home. So much of their current situation was based on high emotions and a primal fear of loss. Walt knew that was an incredibly strong force._

_He knew there was a stark reality that awaited them both beyond the walls of this room. They both had lives to get back to and he wasn't sure where this new found intimacy fit in. Or if it fit in at all. Walt knew that he cared for her. Deeply. He would even venture to call it love. But, there was so much water under so many bridges. Vic hadn't outright expressed what she was feeling. He could only guess based on their physical contact and personal interactions. There was a very real possibility she didn't want him in her life that way. Not permanently. Not anymore._

_She was his employee. He would need to face that music at some point. Fresh off a divorce, he didn't have any idea what she even wanted from this or if she wanted anything at all beyond what they were currently sharing. _

_There was Donna. The thing with her that he couldn't really name. He found her attractive. He honestly thought there was more in the beginning. But, so far, that was filled with false starts and awkward moments. The two of them couldn't quite seem to find their footing with each other. Lately, he was feeling more and more like they were both trying to force something that simply wasn't there. He wasn't even sure what to call their relationship. Or if it was even a relationship. Whatever it was still hadn't been consummated. And now, here he was, in bed with someone else. Someone who made him feel things no other woman had since the passing of his wife._

_Right now, there were simply too many questions and not enough answers._

_Vic stirred against him. She turned and pressed her face into the skin at his side. Slowly, her eyes opened. She blinked a couple of times and then looked at him. Directly into his eyes. Quite possibly, directly into his soul. That's the way it felt, anyway, lying there with her in the silence._

"_Sorry I keep falling asleep on you."_

_Walt let out a quiet laugh._

"_I think you need the rest."_

_She closed her eyes._

"_Mmmm…any word on when we're free to go?"_

_A slight shake of his head answered her question._

"_Not yet."_

_Almost as if listening to them, the room phone rang with a loud, nerve rattling clang. He felt Vic jerk at the sound. Walt sat up and reached over her to answer the phone. Her eyes stayed on him as he listened and answered with short, terse responses. He hung the phone back up and collapsed back onto the bed. Vic was still watching him._

"_So?"_

_He grimaced._

"_We need to get dressed. Agent Donovan in on his way."_

**One Week Earlier**

She could read the frustration on his face.

"No luck?"

He shook his head and passed her phone back. Vic tucked it away into her pocket.

"Can't get anyone to answer. Ferg must still be out, too. No one is answering at the office, either."

Walt looked around and up at the sky. The day was moving along. The shorter days of winter left them with a limited amount of daylight.

"Looks like I may be driving into town."

Vic looked at the truck.

"We just can't leave it here, Walt. I mean…it's evideince."

He nodded, well aware of that fact.

"I know. But…we're running out of light and options here."

She chewed her bottom lip. What should've been a fairly simple call was escalating quickly into a full scale investigation.

I'll stay. You go light a fire under someone's ass."

Walt shook his head.

"I can't leave you out there."

Vic rolled her eyes.

"Walt, you know these guys. They're gonna do you a favor before they'll do one for me. I'll sit with the truck to make sure no one messes with it, you ride into town and get someone out here to tow it."

He continued to look unconvinced.

"It's snowing."

She looked out the Bronco window.

"Barely now. Storm is about gone. I'm dressed well enough. How long do you think it'll take you to get to Durant from here?"

He thought for a moment.

"Maybe twenty minutes."

She nodded at him.

"See…you can be there and back in less than an hour. It will be fine. I'm armed and I have my phone."

She could see his mind waffling back and forth at her suggestion. She nudged him with her elbow.

"Don't get all macho on me, Walt. Would you really think this hard if I was Ferg?"

He hated to admit that she made a valid point. He sighed and nodded.

"Okay. You stay here and watch the truck and I'll see about getting someone out here. Got your gloves and all?"

Vic nodded.

"Yep. Gloves, hat, phone. I'm good."

She pulled the door handle and cracked the door.

"See you in a bit. Okay?"

For the first time in quite a while, she offered him a genuine smile. Cold air was beginning to enter the Bronco. Vic pulled her winter gloves out and pulled them on as she slid from the Bronco. He gave her one last look before she closed the door with a slight slam and he pulled out, leaving her alone.

Vic pulled her hat down lower on her head and began to mill around. There really wasn't anywhere to sit and she figured she would stay warmer if she kept moving. Tucking her hands into the pockets of her duty jacket, she kicked at the snow with her boots. Looking up, her eyes scanned over the white landscape.

Philly got its fair share of snow. But, it was nothing like this. There, it was immediately plowed aside. The snow was dingy and dirty as it piled up on the roadsides. Here it was so white, it was almost painful to look at. When the sun hit it just right, it could be breathtaking.

Vic checked the time on her phone. Walt should be close to town by now. She sighed and continued to walk in a slow circle around the truck. Vic paused and cocked her head, listening. She thought she heard an engine.

A few seconds later and her suspicions were confirmed. A vehicle came into view. Another pick up. Close behind it was a Jeep. Vic studied them as they bounced over the road. For the road to be like it was, they were both traveling awfully fast. Her gut began to tell her that something wasn't right. Her hand instinctively moved to her 9mm and pulled it from the holster on her side. Gripping it in her hand, she moved to the far side of the truck and waited.

xxx

Walt steered the Bronco over the snowy roads with precision and caution. The plows would start out in town and the more populated parts of Absaroka County and make their way out. The roads he was traversing were still potentially hazardous. But, he was accustomed to the roads and the weather. It was nothing he hadn't already been dealing with for years. Most of his adult life. He pressed his foot a little harder on the gas, ready to get back to the abandoned truck.

And Vic.

He did exactly what she told him to do. He lit a fire under someone's ass. Luckily, that someone happened to be an old friend of his who had towed many a vehicle for the Sheriff Department. He glanced in the rearview mirror and could see the tow truck a ways behind him, rattling alone at a slightly slower pace.

It would cost them, but he needed the truck safely stored as evidence so that they could go over it with a fine tooth comb and find out what type of story it had to tell them. Something had clearly happened. Something violent. It would possibly explain why the vehicle was left sitting on the side of the road in a remote part of the county. There was a good chance it would turn out to be stolen. Stolen and used in some crime. That was normally the way these things unfolded.

Walt's eyes scanned the road ahead. A frown spread across his face and an odd feeling started to wind its way through his stomach. Apprehension? Dread? It felt like a snake coiling tighter and tighter around his intestines and his lungs. He slowed the Bronco and pulled off the road, putting it in park.

His boots hit the snow covered ground with a muted crunch. He looked around, taking a minute to process what was happening.

Walt ran his hand over his jaw. He heard the tow truck pull up behind him and the door open and close as the driver got out. He turned to see Charlie Moore walking across the snow with a questioning look on his face, scratching at the graying beard he always wore.

"Where's the truck?"

Walt looked at the ground, his mind whirring into action. The tracks were there. The truck was not. What made his stomach sink were the other tire tracks. It looked like two other vehicles had pulled off the road. Those tracks hadn't been there when he left close to an hour ago.

The most important thing was Vic, who was nowhere to be found.

xxx

_Vic emerged from the bathroom tugging a gray hoodie down over her tank top. It hung down to the middle of her thighs and swallowed her in it's a bagginess. It was clearly made for a man. But, right now, she didn't have anything else to wear. Her jeans were ripped in a couple of places and marred with streaks of dirt and mud. She wore socks but no shoes. Walt made a mental note that she would need some before they headed out. The air was still chilly. She would need shoes or boots of some kind. He had mentioned it to Agent Donovan who merely grunted in response._

_Her hair was still down but he could see the hair band on her wrist and she was combing her fingers through it. With a couple of quick motions, she whipped it up into a ponytail. Walt noted the limp in her walk. One sock was lumpy and misshapen. It hid the thick white gauze that was wrapped around her foot. Walt winced at the memory. _

_Vic's eyed darkened and she knew he was thinking about something she didn't want him to bring up. She averted her eyes and swallowed._

"_How's your foot?"_

_It seemed like an innocuous question but something flashed across her face and she looked down like she was making sure her foot was actually still there._

"_Hurts."_

_His eyes traveled back down her leg and settled on the right foot._

"_Does the bandage need to be changed?"_

_Vic gave a small shake of her head._

"_No."_

_Walt nodded in response._

_This was how she had been since their arrival. Sometimes, such as when they were in bed earlier, she seemed open to him. Soft. Other times, he could see her closing herself off and trying not to dwell on anything. It was the same tactic she used after the Chance Gilbert situation. He didn't want to see her lapse into that again. But, it was hard to express it to her when he was guilty of the same thing. _

_She would merely look at him with those ever expressive hazel eyes that told him he was being a hypocrite._

_It was almost like they were existing in two different realities. The one where they found comfort and solace in one another. In that one, she would smile at him and almost act like herself. In the other, she was dark and shut down to any type of prying. The mention of Donovan and the so called real world brought out that side more often than not. _

_She shoved her hands into the pockets on the front of her hoodie._

"_They still have my phone."_

"_It's evidence."_

_She blew out a frustrated breath._

"_They're treating us like we're evidence. Or fucking suspects."_

_He could hear the bitterness in her tone. It was a feeling he shared and understood. Walt glanced at the window. The curtains were still pulled shut, but he could see sprinkles of sunlight that managed to find a way through. The snow was gone now, melted days ago when the temperature crept up slowly. _

_It was hard to believe just seven days ago, they had been complaining about the impending snow and what a mess it would be in Durant. It seemed so trivial at this point. But, he longed for it. That place in time. He knew Vic did, as well. She might not vocalize it, but she felt the same way he did._

_He heard voices outside the room and glanced at her. A mask was settling over her face. She was hardening herself in preparation for what was to come. Walt walked slowly across the room. Just as he reached it, he heard the knock and pulled it open._


	2. Ch 1: Let it Snow

**Ch. 1: Let it Snow**

**Sunday**

"Well, that's a great way to start the week."

Vic's voice was downtrodden. Walt lifted his head and saw her standing in his doorway, leaned on the wooden door frame with one hand on her hip. He could only assume that she was talking about the impending weather that the news was forecasting.

"The snow?"

She nodded and came all the way inside. It was rare that she darkened his door these days. Of course, it was Sunday and they were the only ones in the office. It was talk to him or talk to herself.

"Yeah, the snow."

Her eyes drifted to the window. Right now, the sun was shining, although the temperatures were steadily dropping with the front that was moving through. Walt leaned back and focused on her.

"What's the forecast looking like now?"

She held her phone in her free hand and held it up. She would've been looking at her weather app.

"Snow starting in the overnight hours and increasing throughout the day tomorrow before leaving the area in the late afternoon or early evening."

He smiled. She sounded like she was directly quoting the weatherman.

"I've noticed traffic picking up in town."

Vic nodded.

"Yeah, everyone always waits until the last minute to get their shit together."

He nodded, agreeing with that particular assessment.

"Are you ready?"

She huffed under her breath. There was no humor there to speak of.

"I'll be here. It's not like there's anything else to do."

It was a true enough statement. He wouldn't vocalize it out loud, but he worried about her living in an old RV when the weather turned. Wyoming winters could be brutal. Of course, it wasn't her first winter here, so he would just have to trust her judgement.

"Probably safer here, anyway."

She gave him a long look before answering.

"Yeah, Cady told me if I needed to, I could crash with her."

That provided him with some sense of relief. Walt stood up and came around the desk.

"You're right about one thing…I suppose this will take all of us being here."

She gave him a look that was dripping with sarcasm.

"All three of us? Wow, we've totally got it covered."

He could hear the frustration in her voice and he knew exactly where it was directed.

"I'm gonna hire someone."

She tilted her head.

"Really? Cause you've already fired two people. Two capable, willing to do this shitty job people."

Walt rubbed his temples and leaned on his desk. He would really rather not revisit the Eamonn fiasco. He hated to admit that she was right about that. He felt jealous of the younger man and had no right to. He wasn't happy with the way he acted or the way any of that played out.

"Zach couldn't stay. You know that."

Vic folded her arms over her chest and pinned him in place with her eyes.

"Walt, how many times have you been guilty of doing exactly what Zach did? I can think of a few off the top of my head."

He shook his head.

"Doesn't mean it was right. Now look at the mess I'm in facing this lawsuit."

Her stance softened.

"Look, all I'm saying is that the three of us cannot manage this forever. It's starting to wear on all of us, Walt. And…Ferg has a girlfriend now. He should get to have a personal life. He's young. He shouldn't be working all the time."

Walt nodded in concession. He knew they were all overworked.

"I'll hire someone."

She let her arms fall to her side.

"Yeah, well, that won't help us tomorrow."

She pulled her phone back out and checked the time.

"Need me for anything else?"

Walt shook his head.

"No."

"Good. I'm going home then. Need to try and get some sleep before the shit storm…I mean snow storm."

He nodded, resisting the urge to smile at her comment.

"Can you come in early tomorrow?"

She paused in the doorway.

"Sure. Not like I have anything else to do."

xxx

Walt ambled up the steps to his cabin. The boards of his porch creaked under his boots. He removed his hat and hung it up once he cross into his living room. He shrugged out of his coat and tossed it over the back of the couch. His answering machine light was blinking, but he didn't feel like talking to anyone. He made his way through the kitchen and opened his depressingly empty refrigerator. He pulled a can of Ranier out and popped the top. Walt took a long swallow of the beer on his way back to the couch, where he sat down and let his head fall back.

He could feel the beginnings of a headache starting up. Stress and life, no doubt. His best bet would be a couple of beers and then bed. He toed off his boots and put his feet up on the coffee table, willing himself to relax. Raising his can, he took another long swallow and waited for the alcohol to work and start to numb his mind somewhat.

He thought he was beyond this. He should've been. This had been his coping mechanism after Martha. But that was over and done. Still, there were new issues every day. He still couldn't really decide what was happening between himself and Donna, or if it needed to continue. He liked her. He did. He just…wasn't sure it was enough. Whatever she made him feel, didn't seem like what he wanted to feel. Or what he needed to feel. It wasn't strong enough.

His mind drifted back over time to waking up in the hospital after he was shot with Vic bent over him, her lips pressed up against his. He thought it was a dream. Must be. But, it wasn't. That became clear when she spoke to him. For a brief second, something surged through him. It ended abruptly when Cady came in, but he felt it all the same. No matter how brief. Since then, his mind went to her often. He tried so hard to be over her. To be over whatever seemed to have sprung up between them. Her divorce scared him.

Suddenly, she was free.

He could actually have her.

Of course, he panicked.

He wanted it to work with Donna for a multitude of reasons. But, with Vic in his mind, that didn't seem possible. Or fair. She told him point blank that she wasn't seeing Eamonn. Whatever was between them must've ended at some point. As far as he knew, she wasn't seeing anyone else.

But so many bridges had been burned.

Hell…incinerated was more like it.

He finished off his beer and set the empty can on the table.

He felt her pull as strong as he ever had. But she scared him. Well, not Vic exactly. But the thought of being with her in that way. It went against so many things he told himself weren't right. What he actually wanted was in sharp contrast to what he felt he should want. The result was that he was constantly at war with himself. And he took it out on her far too often.

He knew he was guilty of confusing her. It was unfair to expect her to be anything other than angry at him.

Walt considered getting himself another beer. Instead, he closed his eyes and waited for sleep to overtake him.

**Monday 7:36 AM**

"Morning."

Vic left off the good. It would've been an outright lie. Walt nodded to her as he poured himself a cup of coffee from the old pot in the office.

"Morning. How was your ride in?"

She shrugged as she removed her jacket and hung it over her chair.

"Not too bad. Getting worse, though."

As if to prove her own point, she stood by her desk and peered through the blinds at the falling snow. The ground was already covered. He took a sip of coffee. He would need all the caffeine today. They all would.

"Might have to prioritize our calls if it's a busy day."

Vic started to reply when the door opened and Ferg came bustling in carrying a large bag from the Busy Bee. Walt and Vic watched him set the bag down and remove his coat. He offered them both a smile.

"Good morning. Breakfast?"

He picked up the bag and held it out. Vic eyed him with good natured humor.

"Bucking for a raise?"

He merely smiled at her.

"Just thought we should start our day off right."

She took the proffered bag and dug out a breakfast sandwich before passing it off to Walt. She looked at Ferg while she chewed and a slow smile crept across her face. Ferg gave her a questioning look.

"What?"

She just shrugged as she sat down at her desk still smiling.

"Just…good to know someone had a good night last night."

He made a face at her. Walt returned the bag to Ferg's desk, his newly acquired breakfast in his hand.

"Thanks, Ferg."

"You're welcome, Sheriff."

Ferg turned his eyes to Vic.

"See? That's all you had to say."

She wadded up her wrapper and tossed it at him while she laughed. Ferg dodged it and took a bite of his own sandwich, shaking his head. Even Walt smiled a little. Light moments were had been few and far between and it was nice to see. Even if it was only temporary.

Vic smiled across the two desks.

"Thanks, Ferg."

He nodded at her.

"You're welcome."

Walt shook his head at them and took his coffee and sandwich into his office. Sitting at his desk, he looked through his door. He could just see Vic leaned forward with her elbows propped up on her desk, talking to Ferg. He missed those types of conversations with her. Casual. Comfortable.

She stood up and turned, causing Walt to drop his eyes down to his coffee cup. He had no idea if she actually saw him watching her. But, it wouldn't be the first time. He heard her boots move across the floor and he could hear the sounds of her fixing herself a cup of coffee and stirring in milk and sugar. A few minutes later, she appeared in his door.

"So…what's the plan for today?"

Walt looked up at her in question.

"Plan?"

She nodded and sipped her coffee.

"Yeah, is Ruby coming in?"

She glanced over her shoulder. Walt nodded.

"Yep. Told her to take her time and call me if she wasn't comfortable driving."

Vic nodded her head slowly.

"Do you want one of us to go out and patrol?"

Walt looked out the window and sighed.

"That's probably a good idea."

He leaned forward.

"Ferg!"

A second later, Ferg appeared behind Vic, his eyes on Walt.

"What's up, Sheriff?"

"I want you out today patrolling, checking speed, assisting anyone who needs it."

Ferg nodded.

"Sure thing. Want me to take the Charger?"

Vic shook her head.

"Take the truck. It'll be better than the Charger for this."

She disappeared for a moment and returned with the truck keys jingling in her hands. She held them out and Ferg took them, stuffing them into his pocket.

"Thanks."

Vic smiled.

"Sure."

He looked to Walt.

"Anything else?"

Walt shook his head.

"Nope. You know what to do."

Ferg gave him a quick nod and left the office. They could hear him dressing for the weather and then out the door and clomping down the stairs.

Vic offered a small smile in Walt's direction.

"Better him than me."

**12:02 PM**

"Hey, I'm about to run over to the Busy Bee and grab some lunch. Want anything?"

Her voice startled him. His concentration had been firmly on the reports in front of him. Since the morning hours, they had both come and gone a couple of times on calls. Thankfully nothing major had come up so far. Ferg had called in and said he was coming in to take a break. His morning was busy compared to theirs.

"Uh…sure. Thanks."

Her eyes continued to sit on him.

"Any preference?"

Walt shook his head.

"No…just whatever they're serving."

She nodded and turned away. Just as she was returning to her desk, the office door opened and Ferg blew in, pulling a hat from his head and brushing snow from his Carhartt coat. Vic ran her eyes over him.

"Still snowing?"

He nodded and his hand over his curly hair.

"Yeah. Picking up now."

He eyed her hand on her jacket.

"Heading out?"

She nodded as she pulled on her jacket and zipped it.

"Yeah, getting lunch. Want something?"

He nodded eagerly.

"Yes. Please. Something hot. Soup or something."

Vic pulled on her gloves and flipped her collar up to protect her neck as she headed out the door.

"Sure thing. Be back in a bit."

The old café must have been fairly empty because she was back within fifteen minutes. Normally, lunch was their busiest time of the day and the wait could get lengthy. She was juggling two bags and a cup holder. Ferg moved and relieved her of one bag. She smiled at him gratefully

"Thanks."

Vic glanced around the office.

"Ruby never made it in?"

Walt came from his own office shaking his head.

"Nope. Car wouldn't start this morning. I told her just to take a day and stay warm."

Vic nodded as she started taking items from the bags and spreading them out.

"Got soup and sandwiches all around."

The three of them ate in relative silence. It was nice to have a lull in the calls they had been receiving. Just as Ferg was finishing up, the phone rang. Walt reached over and snatched it up off Ruby's desk.

"Absaroka County Sheriff."

He stood up and hovered over the desk scribbling something on a pad. When he hung up, he glanced at the two faces watching him.

"We've got a stranded motorist. Car slid off the road and they can't get out."

Ferg stood up, collecting his trash.

"I'll take it."

Vic glanced at him.

"You sure. I can go."

He nodded.

"Yeah, you're still eating. Mind if I use your truck."

She shook her head, chewing a bite of her sandwich. He started to pull his coat back on. Walt ripped the small sheet of paper and handed it to Ferg, who stuffed it into his pocket and then pulled his hat down low on his head to keep out the cold.

Once he was gone, Walt and Vic finished up their lunch. After tossing their trash, Walt headed back into his office. Vic took a seat at her desk and worked on paperwork. She wasn't sure how much time passed before she heard the phone ring again. She reached for her phone but heard Walt answer it and let her hand drop back to the desk. She had just gotten her focus back when she heard her name.

"Vic."

Sighing, she dropped her pen and turned into his office.

He looked up at her.

"We've got a call about an abandoned truck."

She looked at him in question.

"Can it wait until the weather clears?"

He shook his head.

"Nope. Caller said it was partially in the road. They nearly hit it. It's a uh…rural area and the roads are in bad enough shape. Can't risk it causing a wreck."

She sighed a bit.

"Are you going or do you want me to go?"

He glanced out the window and then back to Vic, who was still waiting for him to respond. He wasn't sure what made him say it. But, the words just came out almost of their own volition.

"We're going."

xxx

_Walt pulled open the door and stood back. Donovan came in, his eyes sweeping over the room. He wore the same black trench coat he'd been wearing since Walt met him for the first time. He wondered if the man just never changed or if all of his clothes were identical. There was something about the agent that rubbed Walt the wrong way and it had nothing to do with this case. He suspected, under the best of circumstances, he wouldn't like the man. Donovan's eyes settled on Vic, who stood motionless, her eyes not wavering from the federal agent. Her hands were still tucked into the pockets of her sweatshirt. But her body was coiled, tight, like an animal ready to pounce or react to a threat. The relaxed Vic from just a while ago was nowhere to be found._

_The shift was abrupt and disconcerting to Walt._

"_I would like to thank you both for your patience in this matter."_

_The man's voice held no real inflection. Not once had they heard anything other than the same dry monotone from him. Vic shook her head and took a step forward._

"_When can we go home?"_

_Donovan held up his hand._

"_Like I was saying. I appreciate your patience. We…"_

_Vic took another step toward him._

"_We…"_

_She gestured between herself and Walt._

"…_are all out of patience. We want to go home. You can't keep us here indefinitely."_

_Donovan glanced over at Walt._

"_Deputy, this is federal matter and we can keep you here as long as we need to."_

_Vic tilted her head._

"_Actually, legally you cannot. You don't have infinite power. Even the feds can't do whatever they want. We're not under arrest for anything so…unless you can come up with something concrete and convincing…we're done here."_

_Donovan shifted his cool blue eyes back to her._

"_Would you like me to place you under arrest? Because I'm pretty sure I would have the evidence to do just that, Deputy. Or maybe I'll just arrest your boss."_

_Vic inhaled sharply._

"_This is bullshit!"_

_Donovan stiffened at her eruption._

_Walt hated the way the man said Deputy. He clearly saw himself as better than them. He stepped in between them._

"_She's frustrated, Agent. You understand."_

_The last thing he needed was Vic being arrested by the feds. They had never liked her and the feeling was mutual. Donovan looked at Walt and nodded._

"_I do, Sheriff. That's why I haven't taken any action and I hope that I don't have to. I just need…a little more time and then you will be free to go home."_

_He saw Vic start to speak but butted in before she could._

"_And you do remember that Deputy Moretti will need some shoes?"_

_He glanced at her socked feet. Donovan nodded._

"_Noted. I sent one of my people to get her something that will do."_

_Donovan cast another glance in Vic's direction._

"_I will need both of you to give statements, of course. I'll have an agent come in shortly to take those down. That will grease the wheels once we're done and free you up to leave a little sooner. I know you're anxious to get back to your little town."_

_Vic rolled her eyes at the obvious verbal jab. Donovan looked directly at her._

"_Is there something more that you would like to say, Deputy?"_

_She looked at him for a long tense moment. Walt wondered if Donovan knew exactly what he was doing. The man didn't know Vic and clearly he had no idea she could verbally eviscerate him with minimal effort. It seemed almost like he was prodding her. Trying to push a reaction out of her. Walt saw her jaw flex under her skin. Finally she gave him a dismissive look._

"_No…I think we're done here."_

_Donovan tossed her an insincere smile._

"_Alright then. There will be someone here within the half hour to get those statements."_

_Without another word, he left and closed the door behind him. Vic turned to Walt, her eyes now burning a hole through him._

"_Don't do that again."_

_He was confused._

"_Don't do what?"_

_She inhaled and exhaled and he could see that she was struggling to maintain her composure._

"_Speak for me. Interrupt me."_

_She sounded frustrated, bordering on angry. Walt knew her moods were shifting like blowing sand right now and he didn't want to push her any farther or spark any more anger than she already felt. Deep down, he knew she wasn't really mad at him. He was merely a convenient target._

_Walt sighed, keeping his voice steady._

"_Vic, I don't want you to get into it with him. He could arrest you. Both of us, really."_

_She reached up and rubbed the bridge of her nose._

"_I'm just done with men who think they can do whatever the hell they want."_

_He took a tentative step in her direction, one hand hovering near her arm, but not touching her._

"_You know I don't think that, Vic."_

_His voice was low, soothing. She looked at him warily._

"_I think, to some degree, you're all like that."_

_Walt paused. He wasn't sure if she really meant it. He wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt. Her voice was flat with little emotion. But that one had hurt._

"_That's not fair."_

_She smiled a smile that held no humor. Only darkness. The same darkness that was now flooding her eyes. The same eyes that earlier had looked at him with such softness. It was almost like he was looking into the face of an entirely different person._

"_What is, Walt?"_

**Monday 3:43 PM**

Walt felt a sickening panic starting to rise up in him. The old tow truck driver waited for some kind of response. Walt shook his head, only halfway listening. His mind was still trying to process everything that was happening, or what had possibly happened here in the hour in which he was gone.

"It was here. My deputy was here."

Charlie shrugged, seemingly not understanding the gravity of the situation.

"Maybe she drove it into town. Got tired of waiting, you know."

Walt shook his head again.

"No…it was…evidence. Part of a crime scene. She wouldn't have done that."

He walked over the snow and crouched down, running his fingertips over the cold, wet ground.

"And look at all these tracks."

He ran his hands over the impressions in the snow.

"That's two other vehicles it looks like. None of this was here before."

Walt stood up and removed his hat, running his hand over his hair. He turned to Charlie and replaced his hat.

"Do you have a phone?"

Charlie nodded and tugged a phone free from the pocket of his coveralls.

"Sure."

He held it out. Walt took it and dialed Vic's cell phone number from memory. He had certainly called it enough times over the years. The phone never rang. It went straight to her voice mail message. Walt didn't know much about phones, but he knew that wasn't good. Vic never turned her phone off. The size of their department really didn't allow for that luxury. The fact was that they were never really off duty. Walt stood lost in thought for a long moment.

He dialed the station.

No answer. Ferg must still be out.

He passed the phone back. Charlie shifted uneasily on the snow.

"Do you still need me, Walt?"

Walt's attention was divided. He heard the man next to him, but his eyes were sweeping across the road, looking for something he didn't see. He finally looked at Charlie and shook his head, his eyes still distant and not really focused on the man standing in front of him.

"No. Uh…I guess not. Thanks for coming out. Bill the department for whatever we owe you."

Charlie nodded and climbed back up into his truck. Walt heard the old truck start up and pull out. His eyes were still focusing on the tracks. He walked around, his eyes roving over the ground. He could see where Vic had walked. Her tracks were obvious enough. It looked to him like must've moved around to the far side of the abandoned truck.

He could make out three other distinct sets of prints in the snow. Some of them ran together making it hard to tell what was what. He was pretty certain they were men, based on the size and depth of the prints. Those were the ones that were the most scattered. And they weren't here before.

When he and Vic arrived earlier, it was clear the truck had been sitting for some time. The ground around it was covered by fresh, undisturbed snow. Walt chewed on the inside of his mouth and frowned. The fact was that something happened in that truck. There was blood, rope. Never a good combination. Whoever left the truck sitting would've been a part of it. That meant the people who came and got it must've also been involved somehow.

Walt had faith in Vic's ability as a cop. But against three other people, possibly armed, she wouldn't have had much of a chance. No one would really. He had no idea who these people were or what they were capable of. He didn't know just how armed they might've been. The good news was that he didn't see any blood on the snow. That gave him hope that she hadn't been shot.

She just barely survived that the first time. Walt looked up at the sky. Night would be creeping up on them soon. He needed to get moving.

xxx

Walt blew into the station just behind Ferg. The young deputy was still in the process of shedding his outerwear when the door opened. He could tell by Walt's gait and the set in his frame that something was going on. Concern washed over his features immediately. He furrowed his brow.

"What's wrong?"

Walt removed his hat and tossed it onto Ruby's desk.

"You hear anything from Vic."

Ferg shook his head.

"No…not since I saw you guys at lunch. Why?"

Walt ran his hand over his hair again.

"We left earlier to check on a report of an abandoned truck. When we looked at it…closely…it was obvious the truck was used in some kind of crime. There were blood stains in the truck along with some rope and a sheet with more blood on it. We tried to call for a tow but couldn't get anyone. I…drove into town to get someone so we could go through the truck for evidence. Vic stayed since it was…a possible crime scene. I headed back out there with Charlie Moore and the truck was gone."

He hesitated.

"Vic was gone, too. I can't…get her on her cell and…"

His voice trailed off. Ferg took a step closer.

"And what?"

"There were other prints. Looks like two vehicles and at least three men."

The realization of what Walt was saying dawned across Ferg's face. His eyes widened with concern.

"You think whoever left it came back and took it? And that they took Vic?"

Walt nodded, hating to hear it verbalized.

"I don't what else it could be. We have to assume the worst."

xxx

_She still stood there with the same angry and frustrated expression on her face. Walt took another step towards her. He slowly extended one hand with the intention of placing it on her shoulder. She dipped away from him and took a step back._

"_Don't."_

_Walt let his arm fall back to his side._

"_Vic, like it or not, he's right."_

_She looked up and met is eyes._

"_If he really wanted to…he could arrest us both."_

_Vic rolled her eyes at what she considered and idle threat._

"_He can throw that around all he wants. But…we both know it would never stick. Not considering everything. It would just make him look like the ass that he really is."_

_Walt nodded._

"_I know. But…he could still make things more difficult for us. Let's just play by their rules…and then go. We might be home by tonight."_

_She huffed a little at his comment but remained quiet. Walt tried again. This time she didn't move away from his touch. His hand landed softly on her shoulder. She mildly resisted his first attempt to draw her to him. But, he could tell her heart wasn't in it. He gave another light tug to her shoulder and closed the distance between them. _

_At first, she merely stood there unresponsive. Walt rested his chin on her head. He felt her move when she finally pulled her hands free from her pockets and shifted them to his sides. He could feel the warmth of her hands through the fabric of his t-shirt. She moved closer, just a little, and pressed her face into his chest. _

_Walt ran his hands lightly over her arms and felt her shiver a little under his touch. Her hands slowly drifted down his sides and over his hips, where they paused. She gave a sharp pull and their bodies connected firmly. Walt could feel himself react to her proximity almost immediately. He felt her lips when they made contact with his neck._

"_Vic."_

_He was trying to utter a warning, but her name came out sounding all wrong for that. She was still tense and he could sense she was trying to blow off some steam or release the frustration that was building up in her. He wasn't naïve enough to not see what was happening. But, part of him didn't care._

_She ignored him and continued to press her mouth on his neck and around the bottom of his ear. Walt was considering pushing her up against the wall and giving her exactly what he knew she wanted when a sharp knock sounded on the door._

_Vic pulled away from him as though he had burned her physically._

"_Shit!"_

_Her face was flushed. Walt figured he probably was as well. Vic exhaled loudly, trying to get her thoughts back in order. She shook her head, like she could clear it by shaking everything loose. The knock sounded again. Even the knock sounded impatient. Walt met her gaze briefly before ran his hands over his face and moved towards the door._

xxx

**Monday 5:02 PM**

Walt was moving around the office talking as he went. Ferg was trying to follow what he was saying but with all the physical action it was difficult.

"We need to get back out there before it gets completely dark and go over the whole area. We need to look at the prints, see if there were any shots fired. I didn't see any blood so it doesn't look like there were any obvious injuries."

As he moved, he was grabbing things. Evidence bags, a flashlight, and the department camera around them. Ferg scurried around pulling his coat and hat back on in preparation for his return to the cold weather.

Walt pulled his Colt from its holster and checked it before shoving it back in. He grabbed his rifle and laid it across Ruby's desk. Walking to the gun cabinet, he started to sort through the ammo, stuffing some into the pocket of his coat. Mid action, the office door opened.

Both of them looked up to see a man walk in. Walt knew he was a fed before he ever opened his mouth. He looked every inch like you would expect. His dark hair was combed, almost obsessively neat. He wore a dark suit and a dark colored trench coat. He was flanked by several men who dressed and carried themselves in a similar fashion. He looked at them with blue eyes. Cool blue eyes.

"I'm looking for the Sheriff."

Walt stepped forward,

"That's me. Sheriff Longmire."

The man looked him up and down, no doubt sizing him up. He nodded in acceptance of that information.

"I'm Agent Donovan. FBI."

Walt placed his hand on his hips.

"What's the FBI doing out in this weather."

Donovan tilted his head a little.

"We have reason to believe some men that we are pursuing may be in your area."

Walt tried to keep his face neutral.

"That so?"

"Yes, that's so."

Donovan fished into his pocket.

"We had a reported sighting of this vehicle."

From his pocket he pulled a picture. Walt took it from the man and recognized the truck immediately. Donovan was sharp and caught it.

"You've seen it."

Walt nodded as he handed the picture back.

"Yeah, we got a report earlier of an abandoned truck. It was this one."

"Can you take me there?"

Walt shook his head.

"It's gone."

Donovan frowned.

"Gone?"

"Yeah, along with one of my deputies."

The agent's frown deepened.

"How did that happen?"

Walt ran through the story as quickly as possible. He could feel time slipping through his fingers and taking Vic with it. When he was done, Donovan slid the picture back into his pocket and looked around the office.

"How many deputies do you have?"

"Two."

"So, there's only three of you?"

Walt nodded, feeling his impatience building.

"If you don't mind, I've got a deputy to find."

He started to move by Donovan but the man stepped into his path and shook his head.

"I'm afraid not, Sheriff."

Walt clenched his jaw.

"Excuse me."

Donovan straightened himself up to his full height, which fell a couple of inches shorter than Walt's own height.

"The FBI will be taking over this case from here. We already have more agent en route to begin searching."

Walt put his hands on his hips.

"Who exactly are these men you're looking for?"

Donovan merely shook his head.

"There's no need for you to know that."

Walt felt the anger rising up in him. The longer they played these worthless games, the likelihood that Vic was in danger increased. He had no interest in inter departmental rivalries and pettiness.

"There sure as hell is a need. They have my deputy."

Donovan eyed him coolly.

"Have you confirmed that?"

"There's no other explanation, Agent. There's no reason we can't work together on this."

Donovan shook his head.

"There's no need for your involvement. You have a county to run and are down an employee."

He hated to hear her referred to as an employee. It sounded impersonal and insignificant. In truth, that couldn't be farther from the way he felt. Donovan continued.

"You do your job and we will do ours. There's no reason for any interference."

"You're already interfering in my job."

Donovan shook his head.

"This case isn't your job. Run your county. Take care of your people. Let us handle the rest."

Walt gritted his teeth and dug his heels in.

"I will not sit by and…"

Donovan interrupted him.

"The FBI has jurisdiction over this case whether your like it or not, Sheriff. If you get in my way, I will have you brought up on charges."

With that he turned away and the Agents left the office as quickly as they arrived. Walt looked around. Ferg had retreated to his desk and was typing away. He looked up as Walt approached him.

"What are you doing?"

"Trying to figure out who they're after. Check this out."

He gestured at the printer. Ferg stood and led the way as it spit out some sheets of paper. Walt lifted them and scanned the article. He flipped to the second sheet and held it up for closer inspection.

"How did you find this so quickly?"

Ferg shrugged.

"Google. I mean…we know its three guys and we know the truck they're driving. So…"

Walt laid the sheets down and pointed to a picture.

"This truck."

He tapped his finger over the black and white picture of the truck he and Vic had found out on the road. He looked to Ferg.

"I need you to find out everything that you can about these men."

Ferg looked at Walt hesitantly.

"What are you gonna do?"

Walt's jaw was set stubbornly and his eyes were anything but accepting.

"Whatever it takes."

xxx

Vic had no idea where she was. Her head hurt. She knew that. She blinked several times trying to clear her head. A smelly bandana had been secured over her eyes with another one used to gag her mouth. Her hands were cuffed behind her with her own handcuffs. She knew she was in the back of a truck. The cold metal bit into her skin through the denim of her jeans. The air that blew around her was freezing and lashed all the parts of her skin that were exposed. The man who had tossed her up here, the big one, hurled her like she was nothing more than a sack of garbage. In the process, her head had banged against the metal truck bed hard enough to disorient her.

Her ability to judge time and location weren't intact at this point. The ride was too jarring, her head hurt too much, and she couldn't see anything beyond a few strips of light every now and then. She had finally managed to push herself to a seat positon. The truck bounced along at a speed she knew was too fast for conditions. Wherever they were headed, they were in a hurry to get there.


	3. Ch 2: A Dark and Stormy Night

**All locations are fiction**

**Ch. 2: A Dark and Stormy Night**

**Monday 8:26 PM**

Ferg bustled into Walt's office with his hands full. He dropped the load he was carrying on Walt's desk. Walt leaned back and watched as the younger man began to slide papers this way and that into some form of organization.

"This is what I've got."

Ferg rapped his hands against his research.

Walt ran his eyes over the profiles and mugshots of the men that Ferg had printed out. While Ferg was working on his end, Walt found himself on phone call after phone call and hitting nothing but brick walls. No one he knew was willing to take on the FBI. Apparently Donovan's reputation proceeded him as well. He wasn't known for getting along with local law enforcement at all. As far as he was concerned, the FBI superseded everything and owed no one any explanations.

For the first time in his career, Walt wished he had more connections.

Walt ran his hands over the papers as he read.

"Rainy Miller. Oscar Swift. Curtis Hawkinson. Who are these guys?"

Ferg inhaled slowly.

"You name it, one of them has done it. They're like a modern day old west gang. Like Jesse James or something."

Walt frowned.

"I haven't heard of them."

Ferg shook his head.

"They've mostly been down in the southwest. Arizona, New Mexico. Last month they disappeared for about a week and no one heard anything from them. They resurfaced last week in Montana and robbed a bank. Killed a teller."

Walt swallowed.

"So, they're violent."

Ferg knew what he was thinking.

"Yeah…they're violent. Between the three of them, they have murders, assaults, robberies. The works."

Ferg placed his hand on one picture of a stone faced man.

"This one…Rainey Miller…he's the leader. The brains. The worst. Oscar Swift seems to be the muscle. He's the bigger guy…here. And this kid…the youngest one…Curtis Hawkinson…I can't quite figure him out. The other two have been in trouble since they were kids. The usual kind of story you see with guys like this. But…this one…he was from a good, middle class family. He's a hacker. The least violent…but still not someone you want to mess with."

Walt nodded as he ran his eyes over the information. He looked at Ferg with an expression of gratitude. He knew he wouldn't have been able to come up with all of this information. His deputy's knowledge of the internet was something he lacked.

"This is good, Ferg. This is exactly what I needed."

Ferg nodded in appreciation, but looked apprehensive.

"What if the FBI finds out? That we're doing all this?"

Walt shook his head.

"You let me worry about the FBI. From here on out, I don't want you involved in this."

Ferg's face fell a bit.

"What do you mean?"

Walt stood up from behind his desk and started to move around the room. He retrieved the rifle he had gotten out earlier and laid it across his desk. He grabbed his coat and pulled it on.

"I mean…Agent Donovan was exactly right. We do have a county to run. There's still a job to be done here."

"I don't understand. I thought we were going to find Vic."

Walt took his hat and studied it before he set it on his head. His hand landed briefly on the Colt he wore. The familiar feel of it made him feel comfortable. Ready. Able to do what he needed to do. It was like the most trustworthy of old friends.

Walt's eyes moved to Ferg. He walked back to his desk and started to stack up all the papers Ferg had brought him. He slid them into a folder laying on his desk and lifted it, tucking it into his coat.

"You stay here and take care of things as best you can. There's no reason for you to get in any trouble. I don't want you in this any deeper than you already are."

A deep look of concern had settled over the younger man.

"Sheriff…Walt, you can't take these guys on by yourself."

Walt placed one hand on Ferg's shoulder.

"Listen to me…I need you to tend to the county. I'm not asking…I'm telling you."

Walt left his office, carrying the rifle and with Ferg trailing behind him.

"What are you gonna do?"

Walt looked down at the badge on his coat. He lifted one finger and ran his hand over the cool, metal surface. He looked back up and met Ferg's inquiring eyes.

"I'm gonna find Vic."

xxx

_Vic had discarded the sweatshirt she wore. Walt knew she hated it. She only put it on because she had nothing else to wear when the FBI agents came and went. Now she sat on the bed in her jeans and tank top, flipping channels mindlessly on the TV. She never really lingered on any channel long enough to see what was actually on. With a sigh of frustration and impatience, she clicked the television off and tossed the remote aside. She glanced at Walt who was stretched out beside her on his back, his eyes focused on the ceiling._

"_What are you thinking about?"_

_His eyes moved to meet hers._

"_Nothing."_

_Vic studied him._

"_That's a lie. You're always thinking about something."_

_She lay down next to him, on her side with her head propped up on one hand. Her other hand rested on her hip. Walt noted she wasn't touching him, but she was close enough that he could feel her body heat. Her earlier anger seemed to have drained away. For the time being._

_Walt turned his head so that he could look at her. He would be lying to say he hadn't imagined sharing a bed with her over the years. More than once. But, he hadn't really thought that it would ever become a reality. Yet, here they were. Granted, it was under the most stressful of circumstances and out of context of their everyday lives, but he was still thankful for her place in his life. Of course, right now he wasn't sure exactly what place she occupied. Or would occupy once things returned to some semblance of normal. These were things he hadn't voiced to her. Too much was happening. There wasn't any real time to talk about such things. Wounds were too fresh for that anyway._

_She shifted her hand from her own hip to his stomach. It landed right on the spot where his t-shirt met his pants, revealing a narrow strip of skin. One finger slid into the space and moved lightly over the bare skin it found. She kept her eyes on his face._

"_So…what are you thinking about? And don't tell me nothing."_

_Her eyes were intense. He knew his own were as well._

"_This."_

_He lifted one hand and motioned between the two of them. Her brows drew together in slight confusion. He knew Vic would tell him he was overthinking everything. But, he couldn't help it. It was the way he was built. _

"_This?"_

_She echoed his words with a questioning tone. Walt nodded up at her._

"_Yeah…what happens when we get back to Durant?"_

_She was quiet for a long moment before she spoke again, taking him in and considering what he was saying and wasn't saying._

"_Are you asking me?"_

_Another nod._

"_Yep."_

_She chewed on her bottom lip, her eyes steadfastly on his._

"_I…don't know. I mean…do you not want this?"_

_He could hear the hesitation in her voice._

_The question seemed absurd based on how much he actually did want her. But, Walt knew what she was asking him wasn't as simple as yes or no. There were other considerations._

_He sighed and turned on his side so that he was facing her, almost mirroring her really._

"_It's not that. It's just…this has all happened out of context with who we are."_

_She was full on frowning at him now. But, he had started it so he might as well push his way through it._

"_Context? What does that even mean, Walt?"_

_He cleared his throat and tried to express what was in his head._

"_I mean…if none of this happened…would this have happened?"_

_Vic shifted her face so that her mouth pressed into the heel of her hand. For what seemed like an eternity, she stared at him. Then she sat up without warning._

"_Do you ever listen when you talk?"_

_Walt could see the irritation seeping back into her. He sat up as well. Agitating her was the last thing he wanted to do._

"_Vic..."_

_She shook her head, cutting off his words._

"_You make everything so complicated. I thought…that this was…what you wanted. I mean…you did start it."_

_She had him there._

_Walt rubbed his forehead._

"_I do."_

_She shrugged._

"_Then what's with all the damn double talk? It's exhausting, Walt. And I am fresh out of energy at this point. For anything. I mean…for once…if you've got something to say…just say it."_

_He sighed._

"_It's just that…there are other things to consider other than what we want."_

_She nodded her chin at him._

"_Such as?"_

_She was giving him nowhere to hide._

"_You work for me."_

_It actually sounded ludicrous when he said it out loud, considering everything that had happened up to this point. The trivial arguments seemed less and less important and more like excuses. _

_Vic rolled her eyes._

"_Is that the best you got? Have you ever noticed this martyr complex you've got going on? It's like you're constantly punishing yourself for any little bit of happiness you find. Why can't you just let it be? You are allowed to be happy, Walt. It's okay. No one will get mad at you."_

_He started to speak again but she reached out and placed a finger over his lips, silencing him._

"_Just…shut up…okay?"_

_Leaning forward, she replaced her finger with her lips. He couldn't help but return the kiss she initiated. It was slow and almost dreamlike in quality. Her hands came up to either side of his face, her fingertips brushing into his hair. Vic deepened the kiss and then started to move, dropping her hands and pushing on his chest until he was laying on his back again with her hovering over him. _

_She slid one leg over him and moved until she was straddling him. She held the kiss the entire time, sending Walt's mind crashing into oblivion. She lowered herself so that her face was beside his, her hands still planted on his chest. Her mouth moved to his ear where she kissed the lobe, letting her tongue brush it lightly. _

_That alone nearly did him in._

"_Do you want me to stop?"_

_She whispered the words into his ear. Then she pulled her face away so that she was over him again looking down into his face. Walt looked up at her and his mouth went completely dry. He would've answered her if he could have formed words. _

_Instead he just shook his head._

**Monday 10:01 PM**

Walt moved around his cabin with determination and precision. He counted out cash and stuffed it into his wallet. There was no telling what he might need it for. Cash couldn't be tracked. He rechecked his weapons and his ammunition. He grabbed a change of clothes and stuffed them into a bag. Walt paused and looked around his cabin. He knew that once he took this step, there would be no going back. He wouldn't get any do overs. An FBI agent had ordered him to stand down and he was on the precipice of completely ignoring that.

He knew that this move would give Donovan the grounds to come after him if he chose to. Considering the heat he was already facing with this damn lawsuit, it could very well be the final nail in his coffin and the end of his career. Thing was, in this moment, he didn't care about any of that.

He didn't trust the FBI. He had little reason to, at this point. He would've been willing to work with them all the way on this, were they agreeable. The one thing that he was not willing to do, however, was sit back and take no action. He would not and could not sit at the office and pretend like everything was normal when it wasn't. He wouldn't abandon Vic to whatever fate awaited her and hope the FBI got there in time. He didn't know what their priorities were. Apprehending these men or rescuing the hostage. He couldn't allow Vic to become collateral damage. Not as long as he was able to do something.

He had already lost one person who meant the world to him. He wasn't prepared to lose another. In that moment, it struck him. That he was willing to give up everything for her. To sacrifice whatever it took to get her back. It was something he hadn't really thought about until now. But…he had taken similar action the horrible night she and Sean were by Chance Gilbert and his people. He had offered up himself for their freedom. For her freedom.

Walt pushed the thought from his mind. Now wasn't the time to get emotional. He would need a plan. He needed to think and study these men. Figure out where they were going and what their next move would be

Gathering up his things, he left the cabin, pulling the door shut behind him. He stowed everything into his Bronco and slid behind the wheel. He gave the cabin one more look before he started the engine and drove off.

xxx

Despite not knowing what was going to happen, Vic was relieved when the truck came to a halt. She couldn't remember ever being so cold. She listened carefully and heard the sounds of the men getting out of their vehicles and moving around. There was talking and some laughter. She could hear doors opening and closing and the rustling of people moving around. It seemed as though several minutes passed before she heard the metal clang of the tailgate letting down.

Large hands closed over her ankle and jerked her hard enough to make her slid across the truck bed. Then there was nothing under her and she hit the ground hard. There was more laughter and she was hauled up onto her feet.

"Get up!"

Whoever said it was close to her. More than likely, he was the one who pulled her from the truck. His voice was deep. She was shoved forward, nearly losing her balance. The hands closed over her arms and half dragged her up about four stairs.

The air changed and she assumed she was inside. It was warmer here. Not quite as cold. With a rough shove, she was pushed forward, hit, a wall and then fell butt first onto the floor. After that, there were more sounds of people moving around. Words spoken here or there, but nothing that made any sense to her. She sat with her back against what she assumed was a wall and listened for anything that might give a clue as to what was going on or even where she was. She was able to distinguish separate voices. Three.

After a span of time she couldn't calculate the bandana around her eyes was pulled off. The light, though dim, burned her pupils and she squeezed her eyes closed. After a few seconds, she opened them again, squinting at the sudden fact that she could see after so long in the dark. There was a man squatting in front of her. Studying her.

He was older than her she guess. Maybe mid-forties. His dark hair was nearly black and curly. His eyes were also a dark brown. His face was rough and tanned. He looked like someone who spent great deal of his time outdoors. From behind him she heard another voice say.

"Shoulda already killed her."

The man in front of her stood up and half turned.

"Shut the fuck up, Ozzie."

There was some low grumbling but the man did as he was told. Now standing over her, the man nudged her with his boot. He was holding something in his hand. She realized, it was her ID. He looked at it and then down at her.

"Victoria Moretti. Absaroka County Sheriff. You a deputy?"

When she failed to answer, he nudged her with his boot even harder.

"I asked you a question."

Vic met his eyes.

"Yeah, I'm a deputy."

"What were you doing with our truck?"

Vic swallowed. Her mouth was incredibly dry.

"It was reported abandoned."

He nodded slowly.

"Guess we took too long."

He continued to look at her.

"Moretti? What kind of name is that?"

"Italian."

He smiled a little.

"Wow, I've heard Italian woman have tempers. You got a temper?"

Without giving her time to answer, he knelt in front of her again and leaned in close. He smelled like cigarette smoke.

"Fuck with me and I'll slit your throat without a second thought. Understand?"

She could see in his expression that he meant it. She remained quiet. Something flashed across his face. His hands seized her by her arms and lifted her up, pushing her back against the wall hard. She gritted her teeth. His fingers bit into her arms harshly.

"I just told you to answer my god damn questions. Do you understand?"

He shook her slightly and her head thumped against the wall. Vic nodded.

"Yeah, I understand."

He nodded and smiled.

"Good."

With that he dropped her back to the floor with a thump and turned away. Vic's eyes moved around the room. The man who spoke to her was average height. Under six feet she figured. The other man, the one he called Ozzie was big. Taller than Walt by a couple of inches and broad. His drab colored brown hair was longish and he wore a full beard. The third man she couldn't see well enough. He was on the far side of whatever room or building they were in and he never looked her way.

Vic's eyes continued to scan the room. It looked like the interior of a small house. Furnishings were sparse. There was a fire place with a fire going. She could smell something cooking and her stomach reminded her that she hadn't eaten since lunch.

After a while, the three of them moved to a table and ate. She couldn't quite see the food but it smelled like breakfast. Her head was hurting where it has bounced off the wall like a rubber ball and her arms still ached a bit where the man handled her roughly. He wasn't very big, but he was strong. There was more laughter and low conversations. She tried to rest her head and allowed her eyes to close. But, she kept her ears alert and listening. She knew they were armed. And, now, they had her weapon as well. She didn't know where she was and night had fallen.

She heard footsteps and the man returned. Her eyes opened to see him paused and grab a wooden chair that he drug over in front of her. He sat down, stretching out one leg.

"You're a cop."

Vic looked up at him, her eyes on his as he spoke to her in a matter of fact tone.

"I know you know how this ends."

She didn't get to live. She remembered telling Sean that the night they were at the Gilbert place. Once you saw their faces, they didn't intend to let you live. She remained still, unsure of where he was going with this.

"But…it doesn't have to be unpleasant unless you make it that way. My friend over there…"

He gestured.

"…wants to kill you. But he's a dumb ass and doesn't see the big picture. I know that you might prove useful for a time. If you do what you're told, it'll be a lot easier on you…in more ways than one. Get my drift."

She nodded. He offered her a smile.

"Hopefully, we understand each other. You go by Victoria?"

She shook her head and tried to clear her throat. It felt dry and raspy.

"Vic."

He looked at her for a long moment.

"Vic, huh? I'm Rainey."

He studied her for another long moment before he stoop and shoved the chair away, leaving her alone. Vic let her head rest against the wall again, while keeping her eyes on the man. He head still hurt and now her throat burned with dryness.

Walt would know by now that she was gone. He would've made it back to where the truck had been. She knew that Walt would look. Walt didn't quit. At the Gilbert place, when Sean told her he called Walt, she knew Walt would come. Walt would not abandon her. It wasn't in his DNA to do such a thing. That was the one thing that gave her hope. So far, other than rough handling, they hadn't hurt her. She would have to be vigilant and keep her wits sharp. If given a chance, she could always make a run for it.

She knew her time was limited. The man…Rainey told her as much. They didn't plan to let her live. And she didn't plan to go down without some kind of a fight.

xxx

"_Let me see your foot."_

_She resisted. _

"_It's fine."_

_Walt stood there with his hands on his hips. They were dressed again. It was getting late and Donovan still hadn't returned. Vic was sitting on the bed with her legs stretched out. Her socks had been discarded leaving one foot bare and one wrapped in gauze._

"_Vic, you probably need a clean bandage. The doctor said to change it regularly."_

_She knew he wasn't going to give in. She sighed and nodded._

"_Fine."_

_Walt sat down on the bed and took her foot gingerly into his lap. With careful hands, he started to unwrap her bandaging slowly. She winced slightly and her foot jerked involuntarily. Walt paused and looked up._

"_Sorry."_

_Vic swallowed the pain._

"_I know."_

_Her words were quiet. Walt finished unwrapping her foot and laid the used bandaging aside. He belt his head over and examined the sole of her foot, turning his head this way and that. He ran one hand lightly over the top of her foot. As though he were handling something fragile, he set her foot on the bed gently and rose. She could hear him moving around in the bathroom. When he returned, he was carrying fresh gauze, a tube of cream, a wet washcloth, and a clean towel. _

_Slowly, he used the cloth to wipe at her foot. It hurt, but not as bad as earlier. She tried to keep her foot still, despite her instinct to pull it away. Once he was done cleaning the area, he patted it dry. He, again, laid her foot on the bed and took the towel and rag back to the bathroom. When he came back, he sat down again and studied her foot._

"_How's the pain?"_

_She shrugged._

"_It's not as bad."_

_He eyed her._

"_But it still hurts?"_

_Vic's eyes shifted to her foot. She knew the sole would be scarred to some degree._

"_Yeah."_

_He nodded. Taking the tube, he applied the antiseptic cream as gently as he could. Once that was done, he swiped his hand across his jeans and then slowly and methodically rewrapped her foot with the fresh gauze. Once he was finished, he held her foot there for a long moment, running his fingers over the uninjured skin._

_With a sigh, he stood up to put the tube and gauze away. Vic studied her wrapped foot. She knew he cared for his wife during her illness. So, she shouldn't have been surprised how gentle he could be. Still, the first time he had touched her wounded foot, the softness of his touch startled her and touched something deep inside her. He was meticulous when he dealt with it and so careful. She looked up to find him watching her. She smiled at him weakly._

"_Thanks."_

_He nodded. Vic's eyes turned to the clock. It was after dinner time. Her stomach rumbled hungrily, still not satisfied. Still complaining about she had endured. Walt frowned._

"_You should eat."_

_She sighed._

"_I really don't want any more hotel food. I really, really just want to leave."_

"_I know, Vic."_

_As if on cue, there was a knock on the door. _

_Donovan._

_He came in carrying a paper sack. _

"_Okay, looks like everything is taken care of. You are free to go."_

_Vic figured he would be glad to be rid of them. He extended the bag to her._

"_For you."_

_Vic took the bag and pulled out a pair of cheap looking boots. She set them on the floor as she swing her legs off the bed._

"_Thanks."_

_It didn't sound at all sincere. Donovan put his hands on his hips._

"_You could show a little more gratitude."_

_Walt saw it at the same time Donovan did. Something in her face snapped from passive to irate in an instant. Like a switch had been flipped. She stood up, and her eyes blazed into him. Walt couldn't ever remember seeing her look as angry as she did. The entire time they'd been dealing with the agent, his demeanor never really changed. But, something he saw in Vic changed that in that moment. He looked…almost scared. She advanced on him, placing her wrapped foot carefully._

"_If one more fucking asshole tells me I should show a little gratitude for what should be human decency, I'm going to blow a fucking fuse. What exactly should I show gratitude for? You haven't done one damn thing except be a complete, condescending dick and I'm done with your shit. If it had been left up to you, I would be dead. You didn't do one god damn thing that I should be thankful for. And to be honest, I would rather walk barefoot over broken glass than deal with you anymore. You should be thanking him."_

_She pointed at Walt, who stood rooted to the floor watching this scene unfold._

"_Instead…you threaten people. You're just as much a bully as they were, except you do it legally. Don't threaten me anymore. You want to arrest me, you go ahead and fucking arrest me. Otherwise, get the hell out of my face."_

_Donovan, for the first time, was speechless. His face had paled during her rant and Vic had steadily advanced on him as she spoke. They now stood toe to toe. Donovan seemed to regain his composure and took a step back away from her._

_He looked at Walt. Your Bronco is where you left it outside. Your belongings are in the back."_

_Walt nodded. The man cast one more look at Vic and left the room. She stood until the door closed and then turned to Walt._

"_Let's get the hell out of here."_

xxx

**Tuesday 12:02 AM**

South of Absaroka County, it was raining. Storming was a more accurate word. The area around Durant had been on the southern edge of the snow storm. If you continued in a southerly direction, there was no snow. The weather had always struck him as odd that way. The twenty-four hour diner he lucked upon on this stretch of highway was the perfect place to think.

This time of the night, and in this weather, it was empty. As long as he was a paying customer, the waitress didn't seem to care how long he sat. He ordered a BLT with fries and a cup of coffee. He would need the caffeine. He knew which direction the vehicles headed when they left the site where he last saw Vic. But there were endless possibilities beyond that. He had purchased a road map of the entire area and was busy marking it up with all of the locations he needed straight in his head.

Of the three men, two were from Arizona and one was from Nebraska originally. That one being the so called leader, Rainey Miller. They had been active in the southwest for the past six months. Like Ferg had said, the activity stopped as suddenly as it began and then they reappeared in Montana. Now they were in Wyoming.

There were two obvious choices to Walt. Either continue south or head east. But, even that opened up a multitude of choices. South would lead to Colorado. Heading east, depending on route would lead them to South Dakota or Nebraska. Walt reasoned there had to be a reason they had changed their location. They had been successfully avoiding capture for so long. In his experience with criminals, that built their confidence. Why the sudden shift?

The fact that the person who appeared to be making the decision was from one of the possibilities drew Walt's interest. He was reluctant to involve Ferg any more than he already had, but called him earlier and asked for one favor. A thorough check of whatever family Rainey Miller had left in Nebraska. He told him he would call him back in an hour. He was still waiting out that time frame.

If they had wanted to kill Vic immediately, they would've done it right where she was. These were men who had already taken lives. So far as Walt knew, this was the first time they took someone alive. He had learned from experience to pay attention when patterns changed. There was usually a reason behind it. That was something else that him wonder. Why take a hostage now. It did give him hope that she was alive. There was a plan there. He just didn't know what it was just yet.

"More coffee?"

The waitress broke into his train of thought. She stood next to his booth with a smile and a pot of coffee. He nodded and smiled faintly.

"Sure. Thanks."

She refilled his cup.

"Working on a case?"

Walt met the woman's curious gaze.

"Something like that."

She nodded and ambled off back behind the counter. Walt turned his eyes back to the map. He checked his watch. An hour was finally up. He rose from his seat and approached the counter.

"Excuse me, do you have a phone I could borrow."

The waitress nodded.

"Sure."

She pulled an old style rotary phone from underneath the counter and set it in front of him. In different circumstances, Walt would've smiled.

"Thanks,"

She walked off a way and Walt dialed. Ferg answered on the first ring.

"Sheriff?"

"Yep."

"I think you're on to something. I ran the check on Miller's family and he has two relatives left in the state. His mother and a younger sister. His sister is married with a couple of kids. His mom still lives in the same house he grew up in. Get this. She's sick."

Walt's attention honed it.

"Do you know what with?"

"I made a couple of calls and its cancer."

Walt nodded.

"Thanks, Ferg."

"Oh, hey, Sheriff. The uh…the FBI agent…Donovan came by tonight looking for you. I tried to cover but I'm not sure he believed me. Be careful."

"Sure."

Walt hung up and glanced at the waitress.

"Thanks."

He returned to his seat and ran his finger over the map. The FBI was casting their net wrong. He knew they saw these men as criminals. Nothing more. But underneath every facade, there was a person. Walt knew nearly everyone had a soft spot, even the most hardened criminal normally cared for someone.

He finished up his coffee and tucked away the papers. He glanced at the map. Taking a pencil he made a circle around one point.

Allegiance, Nebraska.

xxx

_The Bronco was quiet. Vic was quiet. It was uncharacteristic. But, considering everything, not surprising. Walt steered the Bronco over the dark road. The radio was off and she was looking out the window. She hadn't moved hardly at all since they left the motel. But, now that Durant was growing closer with every turn of the wheels, Walt broke the silence._

"_Do you uh…want me to take you home?"_

_She didn't respond immediately. He knew she heard him because, her head turn slightly in his direction. Her eyes remained on the darkness outside her window. Walt glanced her way and then returned his eyes to the road._

_Finally, she turned to face him. Even in the dark, he could see the expression on her face. Now that they were alone, the exterior she'd been keeping up was fracturing. He could see what lay beneath in small glimpses if he paid enough attention. She swallowed._

"_I don't…"_

_Her voice faded out like she didn't know how to finish her thought. Or maybe, she was afraid to. Walt licked his lips._

"_You don't want to be alone?"_

_He met her eyes briefly and she nodded quietly. He understood. He didn't want to be alone either. Even so, he didn't want to make assumptions. _

"_Is there somewhere…do you…I mean…"_

_He had never been very good at this. He cleared his throat._

"_Do you want to come to the cabin?"_

_She hesitated and then nodded slowly._

"_Do you mind?"_

_Her voice was quiet. Walt shook his head._

"_No. I don't mind at all."_

_It was all still too fresh. There was no need to complicate things tonight with deep conversations and over analytical questions. Tomorrow would come soon enough for all of that. Walt drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. A sign telling them they were entering Absaroka County blew by the window. It was a relief to be home. Back where he belonged. Where they belonged. Away from everything and everyone._

_His headlights lit up his yard as he pulled in. Walt parked in his normal spot. The place was dark and as he left it. He unbuckled his seat belt._

"_Ok, he…"_

_His words faded out when he realzed shew was asleep with her head leaned up against the window. Walt reached out and started to touch her shoulder. He touched her lightly and shook her._

"_Vic."_

_Her eyes opened and she looked at him in confusion._

"_Hmm?"_

"_We're here."_

_She looked around and clarity entered her eyes._

"_Oh."_

_He got out and waited for her to do the same. She followed him up the steps slowly, taking one step at a time. Once inside, he flipped on the light. _

"_Are you hungry?"_

_She sighed. He knew that she was. But, she was also tired. He could read it on her face._

"_Or do you just want to sleep?"_

_Vic rubbed a hand across her face and he knew what the answer was going to be._

"_Sleep."_

_He nodded and touched her back lightly._

"_C'mon."_

_He led her into the bedroom._

"_You can have the bed. If you want, I'll sleep on the couch."_

_He didn't want to make assumptions or crowd her. Her eyes flicked up to is and he could see the same statement she made in the Bronco written across her face. She didn't want to be alone._

"_We can share the bed."_

_Normally, he would've expected some smart comment. Considering some of the things they had already done, this seemed like an unnecessary conversation. Still, he didn't want to push her or make her feel any worse than she already did. _

_It occurred to him that she didn't have any clothes. He should've thought to stop by her place. Turning he opened a drawer and rooted through until he came up with a t-shirt. He wordlessly offered it to her. She took it and looked at as though she were considering it. Then she walked into the bathroom and closed the door. Walt sat on the bed and waited. _

_Several minutes later, she came out of the bathroom. She was wearing his shirt and holding her clothes in a messy wad. Looking around, she finally dropped them into a pile on the floor. She looked at the bed and then over to him._

"_Which side?"_

_Forever had passed since he'd worried about which side of the bed._

"_Doesn't matter."_

_She nodded and tugged back the blanket and sheets from the side she was already on. She moved slowly, like she might be sore. He made a mental note to ask her about that later. Sliding under the covers, she laid down. Satisfied that she was okay, Walt excused himself to the bathroom. He was happy to shed his clothes and be in his own home. He quickly brushed his teeth and pulled on a t-shirt along with clean boxers. _

_He expected her to be asleep when he returned. She was on her side facing the bathroom door. He came in and got into the bed next to her. Once he was situated, she shifted closer to him, pressing her back into his side. Walt lay in the dark listening to her breathe._


	4. Ch 3: Nebraska

**Ch. 3 Nebraska**

**Tuesday 3:32 AM**

Sleep was hard to come by. On top of being handcuffed, her feet were now tied together with a rope. It made moving to get into a more comfortable position nearly impossible. Not that she would have gotten much sleep anyway. But, she was exhausted. Vic's day had started earlier than normal because of the weather, and there hadn't been any let up to speak of since. She finally just let her head fall back against the wall. Whatever kind of house they were in, it was small.

Very small.

The three men were laid out over various pieces of furniture snoring away. They didn't seem to have any problem sleeping. Her stomach was still rumbling and she was thirsty as hell. Her mouth was so dry that it burned and felt sticky. Her head still ached. Her wrists were raw from being cuffed for so long, the cold metal continuously rubbing her skin.

She wondered what was going on back at the office. They would be looking for her. When Walt returned to find both she and the truck gone, he would've known something happened. She didn't know if they had any idea who even had her or where they might be now or might be going. She wasn't sure about the timeline, but she was pretty certain they hadn't driven for too long. There was a safe bet that she was still in Wyoming or close to the state line. That would likely change tomorrow. Vic knew the more time elapsed, the less likely this situation would have a positive outcome. She knew the statistics. She had been a cop long enough to know.

Vic had been dozing on and off fitfully. But she was awake now, her eyes scanning the dark room. She was almost certain it was movement in the room that roused her this last time. But, in the darkness, it was hard to make out anything beyond shadowy shapes.

'Can't sleep?"

His voice startled her. Vic turned her head to the left. She hadn't noticed Rainey standing off to the side watching her, his form mingling in to the darkness around the wall. He moved slowly in front of her and stood over her in a way that made her nervous. He was wearing his boots that were scuffed and worn. He lowered himself down so that he was at eye level with her.

"This isn't exactly comfortable."

He smiled and tilted his head to the side slightly. There was an intensity to his dark eyes that never seemed to wane. He was the kind of person who always seemed on edge, ready to pounce on a whim.

"I don't imagine it's supposed to be."

He shifted and sat down.

"So, Vic, how long you been a cop?"

He said her name in a punctuated fashion. It reminded her of the way Ed Gorski had said her name when he was being an asshole.

"Long enough."

He leaned forward, crowding her.

"Long enough for what?"

He was trying to intimidate her and she was determined not to give him the satisfaction.

"To deal with people like you."

He smiled again.

"I don't doubt that. I'll just bet you've seen your fair share."

Vic studied him curiously.

"Why didn't you just kill me? Before…at the truck? If that's what you plan to do anyway?"

He considered her.

"Do you want to die?"

Vic shook her head.

"No."

"Then why ask that."

His eye s were focused on hers.

"Because we both know it's what you plan to do."

He laughed quietly.

"It is always nice to deal with smart people. Reckon they're looking for you?"

Vic nodded. Walt would be. She had no doubt about that.

"Yes."

He reached out and took her wrist. He pulled her cuffed wrists towards him. She resisted on instinct and he jerked more roughly, extending both arms out. He ran his finger over her hand and looked down at it. His hands were rough to the touch, the kind of hands that were accustomed to manual labor.

"Not married?"

He released her wrist and she withdrew away from him.

"No."

"Even been married?"

"What difference does that make?"

His face grew serious.

"You shouldn't answer a question with a question."

His conversational tone seemed odd considering the circumstances.

"You shouldn't abduct people either. Yet, here we are."

That earned her another laugh.

"Damn, you are different, aren't you? I like that. But, it's only amusing for so long. When I ask you a question, I expect you to answer it. If you think that I won't beat the shit out of a woman…you're wrong."

Vic maintained eye contact, knowing that he was again trying to intimidate her.

"Yes, I've been married. Once."

"Didn't work out, huh? Why?"

She frowned.

"What do you mean why?"

He leaned in a little closer.

"Why did you get divorced?"

"Why are you so interested in this?"

He shrugged.

"I'm curious about people. So?"

Vic sighed, not wanting to set him off again.

"There were a lot of reasons. For one, he wanted me to quit my job."

His eyes sparked with interest.

"And you wouldn't?"

Vic shook her head.

"No."

"Hmm."

He leaned back and stretched his legs out.

"Do you have a guy? Now?"

"No."

He looked across the dark room, his eyes distant.

"Can't say I blame you there. Relationships make life harder than it needs to be."

Vic looked at him for a long moment.

"Why are you so interested in my life story?"

He smiled and shrugged again almost like they were old friends. His nonchalant manner was disconcerting. She could picture him hurting someone with the same business like attitude.

"People interest me. Why do we do the things we do? You obviously loved your job more than your husband or you would still be married and not here."

She shook her head.

"It wasn't about love. It was about control."

That smile again, inching its way across his face

"Always comes back to control doesn't it. No one likes to feel like someone else has control over their life. That's the biggest illusion of all."

With that, he pushed himself up off the floor. Once he was on his feet, he looked down at her briefly.

"We'll be moving soon."

Without another word, he turned and disappeared into what she could only assume was the bathroom. She leaned her head back against the wall, and closed her eyes.

xxx

_Walt had no idea what time it was when he woke up. He could tell it was somewhere in the depth of night or very early morning. No light came in from outside. Clouds obscured the moonlight. The first thing he noticed was that he was alone in the bed. He ran his hand over the spot next to him. The sheets were cool to the touch. Walt lay in the darkness and listened. He didn't hear anything to warrant concern. Sitting up, he planted his feet on the cold wooden boards of the floor. _

_He found her sitting on the couch and staring at the fireplace. Walt rubbed his face into his palms tiredly._

"_Vic?"_

_She kept her eyes on the dark space of the unlit fireplace. Walt took two steps closer._

"_Are you cold? Want me to build a fire?"_

_The thought hadn't crossed his mind when they arrived home. It was a cold night, but not as cold as the previous ones. She shook her head._

"_No, it's fine."_

_He waited another second but was only met with her unnerving silence. _

"_Vic."_

_He said her name louder. She turned her head in his direction. In the dark room, he couldn't see much. Walt moved next to the chair._

"_Are you okay?"_

_Without light, he couldn't read her expression at all._

"_I was thirsty."_

_She lifted one hand and gestured in the general direction of his kitchen._

"_Did you get something?"_

_She nodded._

"_Yeah. Some water."_

_He stood, still trying to watch her, judge where she was and what she was thinking._

"_I tried to be quiet. I didn't want to wake you."_

"_You didn't. I just woke up and noticed you were gone. How long have you been sitting here?"_

_He heard her sniffle a little._

"_A while."_

_Walt moved carefully by the chair and switched on a lamp. The dim light caused them both to squint. Now, he could see that she was still wearing his shirt. The throw that was normally across the back of his couch was pulled over her bare legs. Once her eyes adjusted, she looked at him._

"_You don't need to babysit me, Walt. Go back to bed."_

_He ignored the comment and took a seat on the couch._

"_Why aren't you in the bed? You've got to be exhausted?"_

_She sighed deeply._

"_Woke up and couldn't go back to sleep. I got tired of just laying there."_

_They sat in silence before she spoke again._

"_I promise I'm not going to break if that's what you're worried about."_

_Walt leaned forward, resting his arms on his thighs._

"_I know that, Vic. But…I also know what trauma can do. We've both seen it firsthand. Experienced it. I don't…want to repeat the same mistakes."_

_She remained quiet. _

"_How's your foot?"_

_Her head tilted downward slightly._

"_It doesn't hurt as much."_

_He nodded._

"_I want you to see Dr. Weston tomorrow and let him look at it."_

_She turned toward him._

"_I've already seen a doctor."_

"_I know, but I would feel better if you followed up with Weston."_

_She sighed again, her eyes still on him._

"_You know…sometimes you're worse than my mother."_

_The tone and remark sounded so much like a Vic he hadn't heard in the better part of a week, so he smiled. It heartened him to see glimpses of her. Even if they were only flashes._

"_I'll uh…give you a ride to the hospital in the morning."_

_She shook her head slightly._

"_You don't give up do you? Fine…but I want to go home first and change. Also…my truck is still at the station."_

_Walt shook his head._

"_Don't worry about that. You won't be working for a few days, at least."_

_She gave him a humorless smile._

"_I hope you plan to pay me for all this time you're making me take off."_

_Walt smiled a little in return._

"_We'll see."_

xxx

**Tuesday**

Walt paid no attention to the time. He couldn't have said at what point he even crossed the state line. His mind was hyper focused on his destination. Occasionally, he would check his map. He remembered seeing the sign welcoming him to Nebraska and he kept on pushing forward, unconcerned with sleep or anything else that might slow him down. His Bronco rolled on covering the miles between himself and what he hoped was his target. As the sun began to appear over the horizon, he checked his gas gauge. It was getting dangerously low. His eyes began to search for the next station. It wouldn't do to be stuck on this stretch of lonesome road with an empty gas tank.

He lucked out fifteen miles down the road and took a turn off to an old looking station that sat alone with a rusting sign and ancient pumps. He pulled in and climbed out. It was a relief to stretch his legs and his back and to be outside for a few minutes. This was more driving than he was accustomed to.

He filled up his tank and then pushed his way through the glass and metal doors into the station. The interior looked as run down as the outside. It reeked of day old food and the putrid smell of gas and motor oil. He was greeted by an elderly man in overalls moving around behind the counter, stocking cigarettes. Walt nodded at him as he walked by and made his way to the drink cooler. He pulled open the doors and was met by a blast of cool air. He pulled out a bottle of water and let the cooler door close with a hiss.

He carried the water to the counter and nodded at the pumps out front.

"This and the gas."

The old man nodded and rang up his purchase. Walt paid in cash, counting out bills from the money he grabbed at his cabin. He waited for the man to give him his change, his eyes drifting out to the highway. When the man lifted his face, his eyes lingered on the badge on Walt's coat. Walt glanced down at the star.

"Am I the first to come through this morning?"

The man nodded, his eyes lingering on the badge.

"Yep, sure are. Only been open an hour. Haven't even seen another car just yet."

Walt nodded in response.

"Thanks."

He walked back out to his Bronco and inhaled the cold morning air. He hoped to be out ahead of them. That would be ideal. His hope was that they would've stopped to rest at some point and give him a chance to close the distance. Better to cut them off than to be chasing them, unsure of their next move. Making them feel cornered would not end well. It never did in situations like these. The last thing he wanted was for Vic to get caught in the crossfire. That was his concern with the FBI. He slid back behind the wheel of his Bronco and took a long swallow of water. The only person who knew he left last night was Ferg. He knew that wouldn't last long. His absence would be missed quickly.

Walt sighed and looked out at the highway.

He accepted that his fledgling relationship with Donna was all but over. Their last few conversations seemed to be leading towards ending whatever was or wasn't between them. The fact that he didn't seem particularly disappointed was telling. He felt foolish now with the benefit of hindsight. He had tried so hard to convince himself that she was the woman for him. That he was finally moving on. But, he didn't even feel right about sleeping with her. Some part of him was glad they hadn't consummated the relationship the day he was shot.

It was easy to focus on the two of them when things were so strained between himself and Vic. That left him feeling isolated with no one to turn to. But…lately, he and Vic were having some encouraging talks. That wasn't to say they were where they once had been or where he would like to be, but it seemed liked they were getting back there bit by bit. The underlying tension had diminished and she smiled more now when she was with him. He knew he was extraordinarily lucky that they were navigating their way through this. It had nearly collapsed completely. He couldn't help but notice…the closer that he and Vic grew back together…the more distant he felt to Donna. It was like the universe knew the two women couldn't co-exist in his life. He knew that there was no love lost between the two. Donna took offense to Vic's brashness and Vic never really liked Donna.

The reality of the situation was…if he hadn't been such a fool after Branch died and had turned to Vic when he should have…the thing between him and Donna would have never have gotten off the ground. He had been grasping at anything then…anything that would keep him from becoming involved with someone who worked for him and who was younger. It seemed stupid now. Now, he could see the truth…as long as Vic existed in his life…he wouldn't be able to make it work with another woman. Moving on didn't seem to be possible for either of them. The inexplicable pull between the two of them was just too strong.

Sean had seen it. That's why he pushed Vic so hard to leave her job. Deep down he knew that's why they were no longer married. Or, at least, part of the reason. He knew the marriage already had its problems. That was apparent from the day he hired her. To a lesser degree, Donna saw it. But, she was dismissive of Vic. She hadn't been as privy as Sean to what played out between him and Vic over her time in Durant. He knew that. There wasn't much he didn't notice. He knew Donna was trying to play it as Vic having a crush on him. On some level, that angered him. It was like walking into the middle of a novel and pretending to be an expert on the plotline and characters when you had missed all of the important things. When you had missed the beginning, where everything was rooted.

He was fond of Donna. He was. But, he felt it was too late for them at this point. Maybe if they met earlier…before so many recent events happened…before he and Vic were so mixed up in each other's lives…there might have been a chance of success.

Walt shook the thoughts from his mind and started the Bronco. This was no time to worry about what wasn't right in front of him. He would get it all sorted out eventually. The only thing that mattered right now was finding Vic and bringing her home safely.

He checked his map and pulled out of the run down parking lot.

xxx

_Vic was fidgeting. He knew she didn't want to be here. She was noncommittal this morning when he again mentioned taking her to the hospital. She had a point. Her foot had already been examined by a doctor who treated it, and prescribed a course of action. But, that was a man Walt was unfamiliar with. Considering everything, he would feel better if Weston looked at it. Someone he knew. Someone he had personal experience with. She had given in to him on this one. So here they sat like so many times before._

_The door opened and Weston reappeared. He looked at Vic, who sat on the exam table, over his glasses._

"_It looks like everything is in order, Deputy. I looked at the records we received and I agree with the course of treatment."_

_Vic's bare foot was stretched out and the bandage was gone. She looked to Walt._

"_Happy?"_

_He wasn't about to engage her in front of Weston. He simply nodded at Weston._

"_Thanks, Doc."_

_Weston smiled at Walt and then turned his attention back to Vic._

"_The nurse will come in and reapply the bandage. Keep using the ointment. If you think it's not looking better, come back and see me. Burns can take a while to heal."_

_She nodded._

"_Sure."_

_He left them alone to wait for the nurse. Vic turned her head and looked at him. Walt sighed._

"_I just wanted to be sure, Vic."_

_She looked like she was about to reply when her eyes shifted away. Her eyes drifted to her foot._

"_It's gonna scar."_

_Walt nodded._

"_Yeah."_

_Silence fell over them. Walt swore he could hear the minutes ticking by on the wall clock when Vic spoke up again._

"_Have you talked to Donna?"_

_It was the last thing he was expecting her to ask sitting here in the hospital. He couldn't even hide the surprise._

"_What?"_

"_Have you…"_

_Walt shook his head._

"_I heard you. I just…why would you ask."_

_Vic shrugged from where she still sat on the exam table._

"_Just wondering?"_

_It was a topic he was guilty of skirting._

"_No."_

_She tilted her head._

"_Why? Shouldn't you let her know that you're back?"_

_Walt inhaled slowly._

"_There's not much to call her about. She uh…she didn't know I was gone as far as I know. Things are…weren't great between us anyway. They haven't been."_

"_How do you feel about that?"_

_It was Walt's turn to shrug. Before he could reply, the door opened and a nurse bustled in with fresh wrappings for Vic's foot._

_It wasn't until they were back in the Bronco that she broached the topic again._

"_You never answered me."_

_Walt kept his eyes on the road. _

"_What is it exactly that you want me to say?"_

_Her eyes were on him. He could feel them._

"_I just…where do things stand, Walt? I think…I have a right to know considering…everything."_

_She was right. She was exactly right and there was no argument to be made otherwise._

"_The thing between Donna and me…it's over. Or it will be once I talk to her. It really never got started."_

_He was quiet and Vic waited, sensing there was more._

"_We never...I mean…she and I didn't…after we were interrupted when I was shot…we never did…"_

_Vic was watching him stammer with a curiosity she didn't bother to hide._

"_You never slept with her?"_

_He could hear the surprise in her voice. Walt shook his head._

"_No."_

_Short and sweet. _

"_Wow."_

_Her tone was very matter of fact and lacked the surprise he would've expected. Maybe after the last week, nothing surprised her anymore. Or maybe she was just too tired. He could see the fatigue etched across her face._

"_Yeah."_

_He didn't know what else to say about it. He had been full of excuses and reasons about the lack of physical intimacy with Donna. He told the truth when he told her that he and Martha waited until marriage. But that was a different time and he was a different person. Not much more than a boy on the cusp of manhood. But, that hadn't mattered when it came to Lizzie Ambrose. It certainly hadn't entered his mind with Vic. With Lizzie, he did hesitate. He knew he didn't have real feelings for her. But, he gave in to the physical urges he felt. With Vic, it was entirely different. Of course, there was the physical attraction that was undeniable. He would be outright lying to say he hadn't wanted her for quite some time. But, where Vic was concerned, there was a history and feelings he still hadn't sorted out. Feelings that were harder and harder to deny._

_There wasn't much else to say about it._

"_I uh…I need to go in to the office for a while. Check on some things."_

_She nodded, accepting the shift in topic without question. She covered her mouth and stifled a yawn._

"_Just drop me off at my place. I really just want to sleep."_

_He knew her rest the previous night had been fitful. Maybe being alone and in her own space would settle her some._

"_Sure. Do you need me to bring you anything?"_

_She looked at him in question. Walt continued._

"_Food? Or whatever else you might need."_

_She rubbed her forehead._

_"I have no idea what I even have at home."_

_He kept his eyes on the road._

"_Well…if you need me to pick up something for you…call me at the office."_

_Vic turned to him._

"_My truck is still at work."_

"_Well, you're on leave so…"_

_She looked unhappy at the prospect of not being able to work and not having a vehicle._

"_Right."_

_She fell quiet next to him as Walt pulled into the trailer park. He parked in front of her RV and put the Bronco in park. Vic reached for the door handle._

"_Vic."_

_She turned._

"_Yeah?"_

_He paused before he spoke._

"_Call me if you need me."_

_She offered him a small smile and then slid out, closing the door behind her._

xxx

"Where is your boss?"

Ferg looked up to see Donovan as he came through the door. Ferg could tell by the look on Donovan's face that he was mad. The man was at his desk before Ferg could even stand, hovering over him. Ferg stood anyway. Confrontations weren't his strong suit.

"What?"

Donovan was in his face.

"Sheriff Longmire. I've been trying to reach him with no luck. Where is he?"

Ferg shrugged.

"I don't know."

It wasn't technically a lie. He didn't actually know where Walt was. Walt purposefully had not told him that. Ferg knew it was for his own protection. He couldn't tell them what he simply didn't know. As frustrating as it was to be out of the loop, Walt's intentions were good.

Donovan folded his arms over his chest.

"I distinctly told the Sheriff that we would handle this case. And I can only assume that he ignored me and is taking matters into his own hands. Otherwise, he would be here."

Ferg continued to play the ignorant card.

"The Sheriff doesn't clear his schedule with me and I'm usually the last one to know what his plans are being low man on the totem pole and all. He left last night and went home. That's the last time that I saw or talked to him."

Donovan nodded aggressively.

"You people always think you know better than we do. If he messes up my case, I will see to it that he no longer has a job. I'll see to it that none of you have jobs if I find out that you had anything to do with this."

Ferg continued to give the man a look of innocence.

"With all due respect, Agent Donovan, if you think you can bully the Sheriff, you're wrong. You were also wrong to think that he would abandon one of his people just because you told him to."

Donovan's face reddened.

"I wasn't asking him to abandon one of his people. I was simply telling him to go about his business as usual and let us handle this case. We have jurisdiction. I've heard about Walt Longmire. Some of my colleagues warned me about his propensity for doing whatever the hell he wanted. I thought they were exaggerating. I don't know why you small time departments always think you know more than the FBI. Christ, I have been working on this case for months and I'll be damned if some backwoods little Sheriff Department is going to ruin it for me and cost me this arrest."

Ferg stood quiet during the man's rant. Once Donovan fell quiet, he simply looked at the Agent with a polite expression.

"If I hear from the Sheriff, I will tell him that you're trying to reach him. Unfortunately, he doesn't carry a cell phone so I don't have any way to get in touch with him."

Donovan could see that he was getting nowhere. He merely nodded, his face flushed with anger and frustration.

"See that you do. Let him know that if we catch him interfering, he will be arrested."

Without waiting for a reply, the agent stormed from the office, slamming the door shut behind him with a jarring amount of force. Ferg breathed a sigh of relief that the agent was gone and sat back down at his desk, worry creeping up in his gut wondering how much of that threat Donovan could and would follow through on.

He could only hope, at this point, that Walt was able to get to Vic and get the mess sorted out before the FBI got to him and derailed whatever investigative track he was currently on. Ferg knew everyone always underestimated them. Especially Walt. Not much stock was put in the Sheriff of the least populated county in the least populated state in the country. Ferg had witnessed it time and again. He was hopeful that Walt would once again prove them all wrong and come through.

**Tuesday 5:46 AM**

"Alright. Up you go."

Vic felt the rope around the lower part of her legs give way as Rainey loosened it and pulled it free so that she could stand. He took her arm and hauled her up to her feet. He studied her for a long moment. Extending his hand, he touched the sleeve of her duty jacket.

"We'll have to get you something else to wear. Can't have people getting suspicious Nothing like a cop to draw attention."

He glanced around the room until his eyes fell on the youngest and smallest man.

"Hawk! Get something of yours she can wear. A jacket or something."

Vic glanced at the younger man, who nodded. Unlike the other two, he didn't particularly look like a criminal. His features were softer. He was light skinned and fair haired. He looked like a kid you would see working in the IT department of a company. A few minutes later, a gray hooded sweatshirt was pushed at her. She held up her wrists and looked at Rainey. Without a word he removed the cuffs and held them. Waiting.

Vic unzipped her jacket and slid it off. She tossed it on the floor. Rainey looked at her and nodded.

"The shirt, too."

She swallowed and started to unbutton her shirt, thankful she always layered in cold weather. She wore a white thermal shirt underneath. She dropped the shirt on top of her jacket on the floor. She pulled the sweatshirt over her head and tugged it into place. It must've been big on the young man who had given it to her because it swallowed Vic. She rolled up the sleeves a couple of times. It reeked of cigarette smoke like the truck did. And body odor.

Rainey put the cuffs back on her hands. When he was done, he kicked her discarded shirt and jacket out of his way. He glanced at the other two men.

"Ozzie, we'll take her…"

He jerked his hand at Vic.

"…and my pickup. Hawk, light up the other pickup and then follow behind us in the Jeep. Not too close. Don't want to look obvious. If you get pulled over for speeding or something stupid, it's your funeral."

Vic saw the younger man nod and she could see in his face that he was unhappy with the instructions. He looked at her briefly before she felt Rainey pull on her arm.

"Okay, let's go."

She was shoved into the center of the bench seat of the truck. The big one he called Ozzie slid into the passenger seat on one side of her while Rainey took the wheel on the other side. Ozzie glanced at her and then at Rainey.

"Why we keeping her alive man?"

Rainey glanced in his rear view mirror and then pulled out.

"Insurance."

Ozzie shook his shaggy head.

"I think it's a mistake."

Rainey hit the brakes, lurching all of them forward.

"Did I ask you?"

The big man looked like a scolded child and dipped his head down slightly.

"No."

Rainey nodded in satisfaction.

"Then shut the fuck up. When is the last time you had a good idea? Never? Sounds about right."

With that he pressed the gas pedal and the truck lumbered forward. Rainey reached out with one hand and flipped on the radio. A country song Vic wasn't familiar with started to stream through the speakers with static around the edges of the song. He made face and turned the knob, searching for something he apparently didn't find. He snapped the radio off with a sigh.

"I hate this God forsaken place. Not even decent music on the damn radio."

Vic's mind was invaded by a thought of Walt and how he would rather drive in silence than listen to the static that was common in their area. Almost as if the thought could conjure him, Vic's eyes flicked to the rear view mirror. Of course, there was no one there. The truck was alone on the road this time of the morning.

"Looking for someone?"

Rainey must've been watching her out of the corner of his eye and detected the slight movement. She shook her head. He glanced at her and then back to the road.

"No one is coming for you."

Vic looked out the windshield doing her best not to react.

"So…Absaroka County. Never heard of it."

Vic looked down at her cuffed hands.

"It's where you left the truck."

He nodded.

"I know that. But, I've never heard of it."

"It's the least populated county in Wyoming."

He shook his head.

"No wonder. Wyoming is a shit hole. I'll be glad to be out of it. Your weather here sucks. I hate snow. Always hated fucking snow. And the damn cold. You from Wyoming?"

She shook her head

"Philadelphia."

He considered her.

"Never been there. It's probably too cold there. I want to go somewhere warm. I liked Arizona, but we kind of wore out our welcome down there."

She could hear the smugness in his voice as he rambled.

"Maybe Mexico or Florida. Got to shake the damn FBI first."

Vic kept her face neutral, but the mention of the FBI got her attention. For the FBI to be involved, they had to have committed some serious crimes. She could only assume that's what he meant by wearing out his welcome. Too many law enforcement agencies would've been on the lookout. She wondered just how wanted they were. And for what.

"Why is the FBI after you?"

That earned her a grin.

"For all kinds of reasons."

Ozzie looked across the seat at Rainey.

"What are you gonna do if that kid gets picked up?"

Rainey shrugged his shoulders.

"That's not really my problem. He doesn't know anything. I told him to follow us, not where we were going. Not my fault if he wasn't smart enough to catch on."

Ozzie's eyes widened slightly. Vic listened to the exchange but kept her eyes averted from making any eye contact with either of them.

"You set him up. You're expecting him to get caught."

It wasn't a question. It was met with another shrug.

"The boy is weak and I don't have time for weakness. Besides, you and me will be in a hell of a lot more trouble if we get caught than him. He hadn't done near the shit we have. At worst, he's an accessory. Better him than one of us."

Vic waited for a reaction that never came from Ozzie. Being in law enforcement for a long as she had been, this revelation didn't particularly surprise her. In the end, most of the criminals she dealt with were only loyal to themselves. They would band together for a while, but when push came to shove, it was usually everyone for themselves. Ozzie seemed to accept this as a fact and simply turned his head away towards his window. Between these men, there was no real loyalty.

Vic's eyes drifted to the rear view mirror again.

There was still nothing but empty road as far as she could see behind and in front of them.

xxx

_Vic looked around her RV. Nothing was different. It all looked the same as it did the last time she was here. When she went to work the morning of the snow. The morning Walt asked her to come in a little early. The day he insisted they both go and investigate the abandoned truck. It would be easy to blame him. But, what good would that do? In reality, even if he had gone alone, he would've needed to stay with the truck and have her get someone to tow it. The fact was the truck appeared to be part of a crime. It couldn't have been left alone with them knowing that. Then what? There was a real possibility the three men simply would've gunned him down. So maybe it was better that it was her and not Walt. _

_She suspected he blamed himself. That was one of his biggest flaws. His need to take responsibility for everything. To protect everyone. How many times had she told him that wasn't possible all the time? He would just say the same thing every time._

"_It's my job to try."_

_She didn't blame him. She needed to remember to tell him that. It wasn't his fault any more than it was her own. It was like the day she knocked on Chance Gilbert's door with no knowledge of who lived there. Then, some part of her blamed Sean. He was the one who wanted to take a trip. The one who rented a car. The one who was driving. But time and distance proved to be enlightening. The only person to blame for that was Chance Gilbert himself. _

_Walt came through for her then. She knew he would. He always did. This time, she had doubted it was possible. But, then, there he was. Just like always. Walt Longmire was likely the most dependable person she knew._

_Except when it came to matters of the heart and his personal life._

_And that wasn't so much a lack of dependability as it was Walt's staunch refusal to simply express what he wanted. Vic figured it was somewhere between a fear of being happy again and the fact that he bound himself up so tightly with a set of rules that weren't even necessary. _

_Vic pushed the thoughts of Walt from her mind._

_She shed the clothes she was wearing and tossed them aside. She took a quick shower in the cramped RV bathroom and then pulled on a clean shirt and clean sweats. It seemed odd to lay in her bed in the middle of the day, but she was so tired._

_The cool sheets felt good when she stretched out. Laying her head on the pillow, she inhaled the familiar scents of her home, her space and willed herself to a dreamless sleep._


	5. Ch 4: Burn

This chapter gets uncomfortable so consider yourself warned. It's nothing major, but I know some people are more sensitive than others.

**Ch. 4: Burn**

_When Vic opened the door to her RV, it was Walt whose knocking roused her from a halfway decent sleep. She squinted down at him in the late afternoon sunlight. Walt could tell she had been asleep and felt a twinge of guilt at having interrupted that. _

"_I woke you."_

_It wasn't a question. Vic nodded anyway._

"_Yeah."_

_He looked around._

"_Sorry. I just…I left the office and…I wanted to check on you."_

_Vic stepped to the side and motioned him into the RV. Walt removed his hat as he clanged up the metal stairs. The RV swayed lightly under his weight and movement. Vic closed the door behind him, clicking the lock into place. Walt laid his hat brim up on the counter._

"_How're you feeling?"_

_Vic moved around him into the small kitchen. She pulled a glass from the cabinet and filled it with water from the tap. Walt waited patiently, granting her time and space as she drank it. Once the glass was empty, she set it in the sink. Turning, she faced him and rested her back against the counter._

"_Okay."_

_Walt's expression was clearly skeptical._

"_Really?"_

_Vic nodded._

"_Yeah, I'm fine, Walt. You don't need to worry so much. I'm not gonna break."_

_He frowned._

"_That's what worries me. Whatever you're feeling, Vic…you need to let it out. Somehow. Don't just pretend like it's not there."_

_She placed her hands on her hips._

"_That's a great piece of advice coming from you. If holding things back were an Olympic sport, you'd be the undisputed gold medalist."_

_He nodded in acknowledgement. It was a true statement._

"_I know. And I…shouldn't do it either. It's just…you went through something."_

_Her arms dropped loosely to her side as she shook her head._

"_It's over."_

_Walt sighed._

"_Yeah, it is. And you're safe now. But, we both know how this stuff can linger, Vic. This…isn't the first time either of has been through it."_

_She lowered her face away from his, looking at her bare feet. Her loose hair fell around her face._

"_What is it you want me to do, Walt? Have break down and cry? Would that make you feel better?"_

_Her voice sounded weary. Tired._

"_No…I'm just worried about you."_

_Vic softened her stance a little at the genuine concern in his tone. _

"_And I appreciate it. I do."_

_Silence settled over them. Vic shifted on her feet a little._

"_Did you…talk to Donna?"_

_Walt looked up and met her eyes._

"_I called her from the office. It was…"_

_His voice faltered. The lack of emotion between him and Donna during the call was hard to express. That was one of the glaring differences in his relationship with Donna and his with Vic. There was always so much between himself and Vic. Even when they weren't on the best of terms, there was always something under the surface. It was a connection that neither of them asked for, nor could they explain it. It simply was._

_Palpable._

"_I guess she was glad to hear from you."_

_Vic's voice was apprehensive. He shrugged._

"_I guess."_

_Vic pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and looked away._

"_Wh…"_

_He broke in._

"_I told her."_

_For an eternal second there was silence. When Vic spoke again, her voice was barely above a whisper._

"_Told her?"_

_He nodded uneasily. _

"_Yeah. That we…you know…"_

_Vic raised her brows._

"_That we had sex?"_

_He hated the way that sounded. Like the act was a purely physical thing. That couldn't be further from the truth. _

"_Yeah. And that it happened more than once."_

_She seemed almost afraid to make eye contact with him. Not that he blamed her. It's not like he could plead innocent of hurting her in the past. In that respect, he was guilty as charged._

"_Was she mad?"_

_Walt closed his eyes against the pressure building in his head. When he opened them, she still wasn't looking at him. Her eyes were averted._

"_It's over, Vic. I already…told you it would be. She's not…what I want. She never really was."_

_Vic finally raised her face and looked at him fully._

"_What is it that you want?"_

_You. _

_His mind all but screamed it. Always you. Even in the beginning. His body was beginning to hum with the proximity to her and the fact that he wasn't touching her. Hadn't touched her all morning._

_Instead of verbalizing it, he closed in on her. Crowded her against the counter her back was already pressed on. His hands landed on her hips, gripping her hard and pulled her against him. At the same time, he continued moving forward, his head dipping down to hers. Vic met him with acceptance of what he was seeking. Her arms were around his neck pulling herself to him. His hands slid from her hips downward._

_With one heft he had her on the counter. Walt stepped in between her legs. Vic's hands were already pushing at his coat and pulling at the snaps on his shirt with impatience. His coat hit the floor with a rustle of thick fabric. He managed to help her get his shirt off and her hands moved on to his belt, jerking it free._

_Somewhere in all the movement and breathing, he heard her murmur against his mouth._

"_Fuck."_

_If there were other words, they were lost to Walt. He didn't know if it was exclamation or a request. In the moment, it was all the same._

**Tuesday 11:01 AM**

"Stopping here is a mistake."

The gruff voice woke Vic. Somewhere along the flat road, sleep finally overtook her. The truck tires humming along the road, along with the nothingness that surrounded them on all sides lulled her mind into boredom. Sleep had been fitful and difficult the previous night and the fatigue was catching up to her.

Now, however, her head jerked forward almost like she was falling. Momentary confusion flooded her mind until the memories sorted themselves out. Of course it wasn't a dream. She was still in the truck on this godforsaken stretch of road, sitting in between two criminals who would very likely kill her.

Or try.

It was Ozzie's voice that woke her up. His voice reminded Vic of sandpaper. Rough and caustic. He was the kind of man who came across as abrasive and nothing else. There wasn't any softness to him. No humor to be found that Vic could see.

It was in stark contrast to the easy going manner that Rainey possessed.

"You are welcome to continue on your way. No one is forcing you to stay."

That remark came from Rainey. She heard grumbling from Ozzie but made it a point to avoid any eye contact. She could tell his temper would be quick and explosive. And violent. Self-control wouldn't be something he aspired to.

Vic looked out the windshield. They were no longer on the road. The morning had turned cloudy with ominous looking dark clouds overhead. The truck was sitting at the far edge of a parking lot. Vic could see a building but couldn't tell what it was. Rainey shifted in his seat next to her and pulled something from his pocket. Reaching across her, Vic saw him hand a wad of cash to Ozzie.

"Go get us some lunch. Breakfast. Whatever. I'll sit with her."

Ozzie hesitated for a long moment, his eyes lingering on Vic.

"Problem?"

Rainey's voice caused Ozzie to shake his head.

"No. No problem."

With more activity than seemed necessary, Ozzie left the truck, slamming the passenger door closed beside him. Vic watched him hustle across the lot towards what must be a fast food place. Her eyes drifted around, trying to get their bearings.

"Where are we?"

She ventured the question to Rainey. Turning, her head slightly, she met his eyes.

"Nebraska."

Vic made a face.

"What in Nebraska?"

His face was a mask that she was unable to decipher.

"That's my business. You're just along for the ride."

Vic sighed heavily. Silent stretched out between the two of them. Whatever talkative mood he'd been in earlier this morning had passed. He was quiet now. Almost sullen. Why would they be in Nebraska? Vic couldn't narrow down his plan or his intentions. Her thoughts were cut short when she saw Ozzie coming back across the parking lot, carrying a paper sack and a drink holder with two cups.

The smell of the food hit her the minute the truck door opened. Her stomach rolled with a hunger that nearly made her nauseous.

She sat quietly and observantly as the two men passed the bag back and forth and began to eat hamburgers. For a split second, Vic thought she might actually throw up. She closed her eyes and willed her body to bring itself under control.

"I guess you're hungry."

Vic's eyes snapped open to see Rainey looking her way.

"Yeah."

He shook his head as he chewed a bite.

"Sorry bout that. Can't waste resources."

It was the reply she expected. Vic forced her eyes to focus on the sky trying to block out the overwhelming smell of the hamburgers and fries the men ate on either side of her. It was Tuesday she knew that. The time glared up at her from the truck dashboard. The twenty-four hour mark was approaching. A full day and night since she had been sitting with the truck and waiting for Walt.

Walt. He would be looking for her. He would've gotten back to the truck and known something was amiss immediately. The thought of Walt brought pain of a different sort. Things between them were better. A little. Lately, they had both been making more of an effort to be more than civil. She missed the Walt that was her friend. Right now, he certainly needed a friend, himself, and she could almost feel him reaching out to her. She got the sense that his relationship with Donna wasn't great. She didn't ask him about it, though. If and when he wanted her to know, she would.

Vic's mind was pulled back to the present when she felt movement at her side. Ozzie was done with is food and crumpled up the trash in his lap before tossing it out the window onto the parking lot. Vic fought the urge to roll her eyes at his disregard.

Walt hated litter. It was one of those things everyone knew about him.

Rainey followed suit, also tossing his trash out the window. He turned the key and the engine in the truck roared to life. Rainey pulled a map from the dash and consulted it before he refolded it crudely and tossed it back.

Glancing around, he pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road.

**Tuesday 3:22 PM**

Walt had been watching the house for the better part of the afternoon. Not many people came and went on this street. That was one thing he had learned. Upon his arrival in Allegiance, Nebraska he had found himself something quick to eat and drove around town, trying to learn the lay of the land.

If his suspicions were correct, Rainey Miller would be on his way here to see his dying mother. Walt was a little surprised the FBI hadn't already honed in on the place. Or maybe they had. It was possible they had already questioned the mother and moved on. It was also possible they were also waiting. Walt doubted the last one. He hadn't seen anything that looked remotely FBI around the area.

It was a sad, little blue collar town. The type that once would have relied heavily on farming and factory work. Now, what crops he saw looked spare, not even enough to feed a family, let alone sell and make money. He passed a couple of factory looking sites that looked long abandoned. It was a familiar scenario in this part of the country. More than likely, the factories would have moved elsewhere in favor of cheaper labor and production. Outsourcing.

House after house sat empty with old for sale signs dotting overgrown lawns. Where the houses were occupied, they looked run down and poorly kept. Walt could see a young man turning to a life of crime to escape this place. It was the way many of the people he arrested had started out.

Walt drove by the address Ferg had given him. He didn't want to draw any attention. Although, there wasn't much here to draw attention from. The house was old with peeling white paint. The roof was in bad need of repair with a torn tarp stretched over part of it.

Squalor.

That was the word that came to his mind. He parked down the street and watched for a bit. There wasn't very much activity and only a few houses in this neighborhood even looked lived in. Rainey Miller would be taking a big risk coming here. But, having been on the run, it would've been some time since he last saw him mother. His dying mother. That could be a strong draw for nearly anyone.

Walt could only assume he was keeping Vic alive as some kind of insurance. A hostage should he need one or be cornered. There wasn't any other reason not to have simply killed her and taken the truck.

While he sat, he pulled out the folders on the men and glanced through them. The thought of any of them touching her made him feel sick. Two of the three men were known to be violent and quick to lash out. Walt closed his eyes and he could almost picture her milling around in the snow the last time he had seen her. She was the one who convinced him to leave her at the truck. If he could have that decision back, he would gladly. She had glanced at him once and smiled as the Bronco pulled away.

Walt opened his eyes. The sky looked like rain and the air felt thick with the threat of foul weather. He would need to find a phone and call Ferg just to see if there was some kind update from the FBI. He hated being out here blind and alone.

But, considering the circumstances, it was necessary.

xxx

_The bed in the RV was smaller than the bed at his cabin. But, Walt didn't care. Honestly, it didn't really matter because Vic was curled up so close to him, he doubted air could pass between them. She lay on her side, facing away with her back pushed into his stomach. For a while, he knew she was sleep. Her breathing was steady and even. The twitched and moved a fe times, but nothing major. She was quiet. He hoped that meant she wasn't having any bad dreams._

_But, a few minute ago, he felt her shift against him. She stretched one leg out and then drew it back. The pace of her breaths changed and her body didn't feel as relaxed. She was awake._

_Quiet, but awake._

_He lay that way for several minutes, wondering if she would break the silence. They still hadn't really discussed any of this. Her focus was blurry at best. His focus was on her and what was right in front of him. Things that needed is immediate attention. Things like the future and serious discussions about live choices seemed ill advised considering their states of mind._

_But, she remained quiet._

"_Vic?"_

_Oddly enough, it was Walt would disturbed the peace._

"_Hmm?"_

_She moved against him when she spoke._

"_You okay?"_

_Her head moved a little. Maybe she was trying nod. He couldn't tell._

"_Yeah."_

_She rolled then, onto her back so that she could see his face. _

"_Are you?"_

_Something in her tone caused the trace of a smile to flutter across his face._

"_Yeah."_

_Her eyes held his. They were stormy and dark in the low light of the RV. He longed to see them in the sunlight when her mood was good and her eyes were the most beautiful shade of gold. _

"_Sleep okay?"_

_She looked at him for a long moment before answering him._

"_I guess."_

_It wasn't quite what he was hoping to hear. But, at least she slept some._

"_Walt, can I ask you something?"_

_He nodded at her._

"_Sure."_

_She hesitated and he could see the uncertainty in her face._

"_What are we doing?"_

_The question she was asking wasn't one he was prepared to answer._

"_What do you mean?"_

_His attempt to play dumb was met with a sharp look._

"_Don't do that."_

_She knew him too well._

_She sat up, the sheet falling down her torso some._

"_I mean…at the hotel…you acted like maybe this isn't what you want."_

_Walt sat up as well, one hand smoothing down his hair._

"_What I want, Vic, is for you to be okay."_

"_That doesn't answer my question. I want to know, Walt. I deserve to know. Are you…just messing around with me…or what?"_

_For some reason the question made him feel indignant._

"_You should know better than that."_

_Vic's voice remained even._

"_I thought I did. But, then…Lizzie happened. And Donna. And now, I don't know."_

_It bothered him that she saw herself in the same category. But, he hadn't done much to fix that perception. Sensing his hesitation, Vic pressed on._

"_There's something…Walt, when I was…I've had a lot of time to think. And…I…what I thought about the most was you. And us. I just…"_

_Walt watched her. It was clear she was struggling to express herself._

"…_I love you."_

_She sounded almost afraid of the words. Her voice faltered, but she managed to get it out. Walt felt like his world stopped on its axis._

"_Vic…"_

_She shook her head._

"_Let me finish. Please. I don't want things left unsaid, Walt. And…they almost were. I'm just…so tired of not knowing. You understand?"_

_He nodded wordlessly. As broken as her words were, he did understand. She nodded in return and her eyes held his. He couldn't remember ever seeing her look so open and vulnerable. Despite everything, she was laying herself bare to him. Despite the fact, she'd spent the last week without any power, she was still willing to give him power. The power to give her what she wanted or the power to hurt her._

"_D…do you love me?"_

_For a split second, his brain completely shut down. As many times as he thought about telling her his true feelings, he never pictured her confronting him so bluntly, yet with so much trepidation. It was so much like Vic and so unlike her. It made him wonder if this was the new version of the Vic he knew._

_She was still watching him. On the edge._

_Waiting for his answer._

"_Yes."_

xxx

**Tuesday 5:03 PM**

"Out."

Vic scooted across the seat toward the driver's side door where Rainey stood waiting, her hands still cuffed. Once she was at the edge of the bench seat, he reached into the truck and pulled her out roughly. She looked around at her surroundings, her eyes trying to take in everything.

The air was chilly, but not as cold as in Durant. She felt a hand on her back push.

"This way."

To call it a motel would've been too kind. Although, once, that's what it was. Now, it was a vacant, dilapidated structure that looked on the verge of collapse with broken windows and peeling paint. The truck was pulled around back, hidden from view by the overgrowth that edged around the building.

She was led through a broken doorway with a man on either side. It smelled old and musty. And it was cold. Rainey led the way, ducking this way and turning that way. Finally he came to a stop. Turning to Vic, he shoved her into the wall without preamble.

"Sit."

She slid down the wall, her jeans coming to rest on the cold, rotting floor. In the center of whatever kind of room it was, there was a makeshift fire pit. Rainey pointed at it and looked at Ozzie.

"Get a fire going."

Ozzie nodded and disappeared, presumably looking for something to start a fire with. Rainey walked around the structure looking up and around. A faint smile played across his lips.

"When I was a kid, this place was the hangout. There was a bar where they would actually serve minors, as long as you didn't cause problems and kept your mouth shut. It's where all the boys brought their girls to hit it…if you know what I'm saying."

She wasn't sure if he was talking to her or just to no one in particular. But she kept her focus on him and listened.

"I brought…what was her name?"

He snapped his fingers together a couple of times.

"Melanie something or other here once. She told me I was her first…but I don't think that was true."

His eyes had taken on a distant look. So, this sad town was where he was from. Or, at least, where he spent his formative years. Maybe that was why Ozzie was reluctant and somewhat vocal about hanging around here. It possibly increased their chances of being caught.

He turned is face to Vic.

"They have a place like that where you lived? Oh…you're from a big city. Bet it's different."

She nodded slowly.

"Yeah…it's different."

He shook his head at her.

"When I was a kid, I thought I would like to live in a big city. Now that I have, I miss the simple life in a place like this. Not that it was all that great. But…when I was a kid…it had its moments. You know?"

Vic kept her eyes on him. He seemed mellow in this moment. Almost normal. Like old friends reminiscing.

"What made you come back here?"

He looked at her for a long moment. She thought he wasn't going to answer.

"Got some personal business to see about. Nothing that concerns you."

Ozzie came back in, heavy footed and carrying a load of broken branches and twigs. He dropped the load unceremoniously on the ground with a grunt.

"How's this?"

Rainey glanced at it.

"Good enough for now."

A sharp look crossed Ozzie's face. But, then it passed. He squatted in front of the well-used fire pit and started stacking up the pieces of woods and twigs. Vic watched him, thinking it was taking him longer than it would've taken Walt. When he was done, it was sloppy looking and she wondered if the fire would even be able to sustain itself.

He pulled a lighter from his pocket and set about trying to light a fire. After several attempts, he found he couldn't get anything going. Ozzie stood up and kicked at the wood, sending it scattering across the ground.

"Fuck it."

Rainey shoved at his arm.

"Jesus Christ, you moron. Move. I'll do it myself."

Ozzie kicked his boot over the floor and shuffled to the side.

"Why the fuck are we here anyway? We're gonna get caught. I already told you that. I'll be damned if I'm going back to that shithole up in Montana because of your shitty decision making."

Rainey looked up at Ozzie from his perch on the floor and tilted his head. Something crossed his face. Something dangerous. He rose slowly. Despite the size difference and the fact that Ozzie was the larger of the two men, Rainey advanced on him like a prowling animal.

"I told you before…you are welcome to walk right out the door. As long as you stay…I'm in charge. Shut up. You sound like a little bitch."

For a few seconds, the two men stood toe to toe. Vic watched the apprehensively. Ozzie held up his hands and took a step back.

"Fine."

With that he shuffled out the door. Rainey watched until he was gone and then turned back to the fire. Within a matter of minutes, he had restacked the wood and pulled his own lighter from his jacket pocket. With a flick and a few adjustments, the fire started up. He moved around the fire, studying it.

He stopped near Vic and sat down.

"I don't know if he's coming back. Good riddance because he's an asshole. Might just be you and me."

Vic turned her head in his direction.

"Lovely."

He studied her with his dark eyes.

"You're probably not as scared of me as you should be."

Vic remained quiet, unsure of where he was going. He looked at the fire.

"With only the two of us…it changes things. For now, I might need you and I can't risk you running on me."

He let out a heavy sigh and pushed himself up off the ground. Moving around, he squatted in front of her. Rainey reached for her right foot. On pure instinct, Vic drew her foot back and kicked his hand. A crack and the paling of his face told her she might've broken one of his fingers. His face contorted with anger as he held the injured finger and inspected it. She expected him to go into a rage.

Instead, he stared at her with eyes that looked full of something that did scare her. He held out his right hand.

"You broke my finger. There'll be consequences for that."

His voice was cold and unlike anything Vic had heard before.

Vic swallowed when he reached for her again. This time, he managed to get her by the ankle. One hand wrapped around her calf tightly and the other pulled her boots free. Dropping the boot, he released her leg and grabbed the opposite foot, repeating the removing of her left boot. Standing, he lifted her boots and walked away from her.

He stood over the fire, boots in hand. He looked at them like he was considering what to do with them. Then, without a word, he dropped them into the fire. He watched the shoes burn for a while before he turned back to her.

Moving around the fire, he took her by the wrists and hauled her up off the floor. Vic's socked feet couldn't grip on the ground and she nearly lost her balance. Rainey didn't seem to notice or care and drug her along with him through the run down motel.

He seemed to know where he was going. He kept one hand on the back of her neck, steering her. In the dark, it was nearly impossible to see where she was going. They made a handful of turns until he entered a room and came to a stop.

They were deeper inside the ruined motel now. The smell of decay was stronger here. Vic looked around. She could just make out her surroundings. It was a kitchen. Or it had been a kitchen. Keeping a firm hand on her, he approached a collapsed set of cabinet and dug through them.

"Aha."

He came up holding a dark object. He waved it closer to Vic.

"I knew there would be something useful here."

It was a small cast iron pan. The kind you rarely saw anymore. Questions flooded Vic's mind. With his hand still on her and the other hand clutching the pan, he guided her back to the room where he built the fire. With a hard shove, he sent her stumbling onto the floor. Vic's shoulder hit the wall and a sharp pain radiated all the way through her arm.

Holding the pan, he approached the fire and crouched down. Extending his hand, he held the pan directly over the flames of the fire. A few times, he pulled the pan away and seemed to check the bottom to see how hot it was. The minutes ticked by. All Vic could do was sit and watch. Her feet were cold. Without her boots, her socks couldn't keep out the chill. Her heart was thumping hard and she didn't like not knowing what he was doing.

After what seemed like an eternity, he stood up, hot pan still in hand. The rhythm of Vic's heart increased when he came towards her. She tried scooting away but he pinned her against the wall. Using the weight his body to hold her in place, he jerked the wool sock from her foot. Vic squirmed and tried, again, to push him away with her feet and cuffed hands. He wasn't a particularly big man, but he was strong. Her attempts where met with more force.

He paused for maybe three second and made eye contact with her. His face was blank, as though there was no life there. When he spoke, his voice was frighteningly even.

"I told you there would be consequences."

Without any more comments, he pressed the flat bottom of the pan against the sole of her right foot.

xxx

"Sheriff!"

Walt held the phone against his ear. It had taken him a while to find a pay phone, but his sharp eyes finally spotted a working one outside of a rundown looking convenience store. Fishing some change from his pocket, he dialed the station and was relieved when it was Ferg who answered the phone. His young deputy nearly shattered his ear drum when Walt spoke.

"How are things?"

Ferg lowered his voice and grew serious.

"That Agent Donovan was here. I think he knows what you're doing."

The revelation didn't particularly surprise Walt.

"What did he say?"

Ferg hesitated before answering him.

"That he's gonna arrest you if you get in the way of his case."

Walt sighed. That was pretty much the reaction he expected. He knew how important credit for breaking a case could be, especially among feds. He didn't care who got the backs pats and handshakes. His only concern was that Vic was safe. Right now, she was not.

"Where are you?"

Walt shook his head, even though Ferg couldn't see him.

"Can't tell you that, Ferg. The less you know, the better off you are. At least, this way, you're being honest when you tell them you don't know where I am."

He could tell Ferg was unhappy with that response.

"I want to help, Walt."

Ferg's voice was quiet and sincere.

"You already have. More than you know by getting me the files on these guys. I gotta go now. I'll try and call you again. Maybe tomorrow."

"Okay, Sheriff. Be careful."

"Will do."

With that, he hung up the phone. Walt returned to his Bronco and sat. He pulled out the file on Rainey Miller and looked down at the mugshot. This was the one that concerned him. The other two were potentially dangerous sure. But Miller was both smart and uncaring. In Walt's extensive experience, that was a potentially deadly combination. The man had been successfully avowing the FBI for months. He had brains. He was a thinker. A man able to come up with a plan and he had the discipline to see it through. That was the worst kind.

Walt slid the picture back into the folder and placed his hands on the steering wheel. His mind felt fuzzy. He was tired. He hadn't slept at all since leaving Durant. He had only stopped for gas and money. He needed sleep. He knew that. It was one weakness a man couldn't overcome. The need to rest. He hated the thought of taking any kind of a break. But, he also couldn't afford to be sloppy when the time came. He would need all of his mental fortitude when he made his move. Walt started the Bronco and steered in on the quiet street. He drove around for a while until he found a secluded looking area.

Pulling off, he let his seat back a bit and pulled his hat down over his eyes. For some time, he was plagued with images and thoughts of Vic. His unquiet mind tried to keep turning. Tried to continue working out plans and scenarios. But, the physical limitations he had pushed himself to were strong and he finally fell into an unrestful sleep.

**Tuesday 7:03 PM**

The first sensation when she woke up was pain.That was followed, almost instantly, by nausea. Vic's stomach rolled. Had there been anything in it, she certainly would have vomited. As it was, she dry heaved against the floor. It was cold under her face. Smelly and dirty. But, right now, none of that mattered. Her foot throbbed with a pain unlike anything she had experienced before. Using her arms, she finally managed to push herself up to a sitting position.

Her back was against the wall, as was her head. She could feel the labor of her own heavy breathing. Vic closed her eyes and willed her body to control itself somewhat. She felt like she was on an out of control merry go round with no way off, the world continuously spinning blurrily around her.

"I see you're still alive."

His voice was back to being almost friendly in an odd way. Vic forced her eyes to open. Rainey sat across the fire, his eyes on her steadily. When their eyes met, he smiled. The orange glow from the fire made him look eerie. Like something from a scary movie she watched as a kid.

He stood up and came around the fire to stand over her. Vic looked up at him. He knelt down and his hand over the top of her bare right foot. The left foot was still clad in her gray wool work socks.

"I managed to get my finger back right. You're lucky. That could've been worse. The worse things are for me, the worse they are for you. Understand?"

Vic just stared at him, still unable to string together coherent thoughts. When she didn't answer, anger flashed across his face. His hand shot out and closed around her throat. He applied just enough pressure to make breathing difficult.

Standing, he slid her up the wall. Vic's feel sought to steady her, sending pain coursing through the right injured foot as it made solid contact with the floor. She jerked it up and nearly lose her balance. Rainey leaned in close to her.

"Do you understand?"

Vic managed to nod.

"Yes."

The anger left his face and he removed his hand, letting her fall to the floor in a heap. He returned to his seat in front of the fire. He waited several minutes, just watching her. It was almost like he was giving her time to collect herself.

Finally, he spoke again.

"There's something I gotta do. You can't come with me because I can't take a chance on you being seen or someone recognizing you. Ozzie still hasn't come back so I guess it's just the two of us. I'll have to tie you up good and gag you. Don't take it personally, but this is important and I can't have you fucking it up."

All she could do was listen. He tilted his head.

"Are you still with me, Vic?"

"Yeah."

Her voice was raspy. He sighed and stood up. Producing a bottle of water he tossed it at her. The bottle skidded on the floor by her leg.

"Drink that. Can't have you dying of dehydration just yet."

Vic leaned forward and fumbled for the bottle. She managed to twist off the cap and drank in long, deep gulps. After a few seconds, he jerked it away from her.

"Don't make yourself sick."

Recapping the bottle he tossed it aside. He started moving around again and talking.

"While you were out earlier, I went on a little scavenger hunt."

He smiled at her and produced a length of rope. Crowding her, he set to work tying her legs together tightly and then doing some kind of knot that also bound her hands in addition to the handcuffs. Pulling out the smelly bandana she was already familiar with, he bound it around her mouth tightly, rendering her unable to talk. Done, he stood back and looked at her.

He nodded, seemingly satisfied with his work and nodded approval at his own handiwork.

"That should do it."

Walking over to the fire he began to stomp it out. Smoke filled the room and darkness invaded all the corners once the light was doused.

Giving her one last look, Rainey smiled in the darkness.

"Don't go anywhere."

And then, she was alone.

_Intending to burn, pretending to fight it_

_Everyone learns faster on fire_

_Things took a turn, lost all desire_

_You live and you burn_

_ ~ Alkaline Trio "Burn"_


	6. Ch 5: Deep Into That Darkness Peering

**Ch. 5: Deep Into That Darkness Peering**

**Tuesday 8:46 PM**

The bar was exactly what Walt was looking for. Quiet, out of the way, and dark. The interior looked as dreary as the outside, with a few neon signs half blinking on and off for so called decoration. Walt glanced around as he came through the doors. His badge was in his pocket. Right now, there was no need to broadcast who he was or what he might want. He wanted to blend in as much as possible. For that reason, he had left his customary hat in the Bronco on the passenger seat. In its place, he wore a dingy old ball cap he had fished out from behind his seat. He couldn't have even said where he got it from.

He took a seat on a bar stool and ordered a beer and a burger. Simple. No frills. Forgettable. The bar tender didn't pay him much attention. The only reason he was even here was because he had to eat. He had driven by the house once to find nothing had changed. He didn't want to risk overexposure so he continued on his way and found this place to provide himself a meal.

There was a television on over the bar. Walt would've expected a sporting event of some kind. Instead, he was met with a muted national news channel. Subtitles ran across the screen, lagging almost comically behind the actual picture. Walt shook his head and took a long swallow of beer. It wasn't Ranier, but it was better than nothing.

The hamburger was nothing remarkable. It was basic but edible. The whole lack of atmosphere here made him miss the Red Pony and its comforting familiarity. Out of habit, Walt scanned the bar, taking in the smattering of patrons. The only other people in the bar were a couple of older men sharing a booth and a young couple at the far end of the bar leaning into one another.

He took a bite of his burger and looked up at the TV. What was on the screen froze him mid chew. He laid the burger down and leaned his elbows on the bar, swallowing hard. The face he saw in front of him was the face of Curtis Hawkinson and the lagging subtitles spelled out the words captured. He watched the tail end of the story until the subject matter shifted to the weather.

He made a mental note to call Ferg later and see what he knew. Nothing was said about the other two men except that they were all wanted and considered dangerous. Hawkinson must've gotten separated somehow. Or maybe left behind. Walt's already fragile appetite abandoned him. He pushed the plate away. He would give anything to talk to the young man and find out what he knew. Or…if he knew anything at all. Walt knew how tenuous relationships could be between men such as the ones he was after. Loyalty was in short supply. There was a very real chance the youngest and least violent man had been cut loose or even used as a decoy to slow down law enforcement.

Still, he might know something about Vic and what her condition was. Walt drained his beer, paid his bill and pushed away from the bar. He needed to check the house again. More than likely, if anything happened or anyone showed up, it wouldn't be in broad daylight. It was dark outside now. Dark and cold. Moving around unnoticed would be easier. For anyone, including himself. Walt paused when he stepped outside the bar. With nightfall, colder air was moving in. The temperature was dropping. It would be a colder night. Colder than the night before. Walt tucked his hands into his coat pocket. The cool metal of his badge brushed his fingers, almost like it was reminding him.

Of who he was.

xxx

_This scenario had played out in his wildest dreams. But, Walt never thought he would live to see it to fruition. Yet, here they were. Not that everything was all sunshine and roses. Walt didn't believe in fairytales. He was pretty sure that Vic didn't either. Too much had happened over the years to both of them. They had seen too much to believe anything ended with a nice little bow on top. Things never really ended._

_They transformed. Experiences were always with you, whether they were good or bad. You went through things. You got beyond them. You moved on. Or you didn't. At some point, you would go through something else. If you were lucky, these experiences taught you something valuable. Left you with something that you could build on or use. And on occasion, the just left you feeling hollow and wondering how you would go on._

_But go on, you did._

_That was the creation of their current situation. The world didn't stop turning because you got hurt. That was a painful lesson to learn. But, it was also something that everyone learned eventually. Some just took longer than others. _

_She was looking at him with those beautiful golden eyes. The interior of the RV was quiet. Sounds drifted in through the thin walls from outside. The rumble of a car driving by, the odd slamming of a door, the barking of a dog somewhere in the distance. That was the soundtrack for what could be one of the most important moments of their current life. _

_Things had been said he never expected either of them to say. Things that should have been earth shattering. Life changing. Yet, here they lay in this too hard bed, just looking at each other. The world still turned on its axis. Despite the lies he fed himself over the years, life as he knew it was still rolling on the same as always._

"_Say it."_

_Her voice was still uneven. She almost sounded scared. Of what, he wasn't completely sure. Maybe the same thing he was. Life itself. Changes. Feelings. He knew what she wanted from him. She had offered herself up, the truth of what she felt. No more dancing around and no more conversations that never went anywhere. _

"_I love you."_

_For the first time, all day, she smiled at him. Really smiled. It was a small, soft smile. But, it was still a smile. There were still a million thoughts rolling around in his head. Doubts and worries. Nothing was simple. It never was. She would be having the same thoughts. Beneath the surface, there was some amount of turmoil._

_He did love her. That was an undeniable fact of his life. If he hadn't known it before, he knew it now. He was willing to do things, questionable and dark things, in order to keep her safe. The thought of continuing through his existence without her had pushed him to take the law into his own hands. It wasn't, however, his first rodeo._

_When Walt Longmire loved, he loved hard and whole. There was no halfway with his commitment to those he cherished._

_He kissed her. It was the only thing to do. The thing he wanted to do. For so long. And, now he could. At least here. Like this, when they were alone. He felt her breath tickle him as she withdrew a bit and exhaled heavy breaths._

_When he looked at her again, her face was serious, thoughtful. She was studying him with those eyes. Walt tilted his head._

"_What?"_

_She shook her head a little, like she was trying to clear her mind._

"_Is this…"_

_She gestured between them._

"…_what you want?"_

_She still wasn't sure. Neither was he._

"_You know I do, Vic. We both knew. Have for some time."_

_She nodded, blinking her eyes._

"_Yeah, but knowing and doing aren't the same, Walt."_

_She was right about that._

"_I know."_

_Some part of him didn't want to get into it now. But, then, that had been his excuse at the hotel, too. It wasn't a conversation he could keep putting off. He was also fairly certain he couldn't have it with her naked in bed either. That was far too distracting and made his mind wander._

"_So, tell me what you're thinking."_

_He glanced at her, sitting up next to him, her hair loose around her shoulders. _

"_I think that we should take some time."_

_She frowned._

"_Time? For what?"_

_He shrugged._

"_Just time. So much has happened, Vic. You've been through something and…"_

"_We've both been through something, Walt. But…it's not the first time. Likely not the last."_

_He shook his head._

"_I just…things have happened so fast. Maybe too fast."_

_He regretted it the second it left his mouth._

_The hurt on her face was obvious. _

"_That's…I didn't mean to say it like that."_

_She swallowed, her throat bobbing slightly._

"_No…it's fine. If this isn't what you want…"_

_She was moving now. Away from him. Tossing back her blankets and rising from the bed. Walt followed suit._

"_Vic…"_

_Somewhere in the moment, her hurt tipped into anger. As she jerked her clothes on, she turned on him._

"_You started this, Walt. You did. Not me. You. And now…it feels like you're using me to get what you want without actually making a decision. I can't do this. I won't. Not again."_

_Walt pulled his jeans up, the moment unraveling._

"_Vic, stop."_

_He placed a hand on her arm, only to have it wrenched free. She went to move by him and tripped over his boot, her right foot coming down on the edge of the heel. She instantly reacted._

"_Ow…fuck."_

_Walt's hand shot out to steady her. She shoved him away and sat down on the bed, pulling her leg up. _

"_Vic!"_

_His firm voice finally broke through the haze of her pain and frustration._

"_What?"_

_He held up his hands, palms facing her._

"_Let me look at your foot."_

_She continued to hold it._

"_It's fine. The bandage…"_

_Walt's hand closed around her ankle gently._

"_Let me look."_

_With a sigh of unhappiness, she relented and allowed him to lift her foot into his lap. Walt slid the bandage loose and inspected the bottom of her foot._

"_It's red…but it's not bleeding."_

_She nodded wordlessly. Walt carefully rewrapped her foot. He continued to hold her foot, his warm hand covering it like a heated blanket. She was calm now. The flash bang of emotion subsided. He didn't blame her. Couldn't blame her. He also had moments where all he wanted to do was react._

"_Vic?"_

"_What?"_

_He gave her foot a gentle tug._

"_Look at me."_

_She raised her eyes to his._

"_If you want me to go, I will."_

_She tilted her head at him. She considered him for a long moment. _

"_Would you do something for me?"_

_Anything._

_He nodded._

"_Sure."_

_She looked at her foot._

"_Take me to buy some new boots."_

xxx

**Tuesday 9:00 PM**

She had lost all track of time. Vic tried. She really did. She tried everything she could think of to loosen the binding around her leg. Or to free her mouth from the gag. But, the man knew what he was doing. All she succeeded in doing was tiring herself out. She was breathing heavily through her nose, the bandana in her mouth making it hard to get a good breath.

Her wrists were raw from the combination of the handcuffs and the rope. She lay there, unable to do anything except feel defeated. Up until now, she managed to fend off the dark thoughts. The ones that told her she was going to die. That she wouldn't survive this. She knew that giving up was the worst thing to do and she hadn't. Not completely. Not yet.

But things looked grim. More grim than she could remember. She was alone. She had no idea if anyone knew where she was. She hadn't eaten, barely had anything to drink, and was running on very little sleep. Her body and her mind were both tired and being pushed towards the edge.

It was enough to break down even the strongest person.

And it was cold. It was so cold. With the fire extinguished, there was nothing to keep the winter night at bay. She wasn't dressed for winter in a sweatshirt that wasn't even hers and a simple thermal shirt underneath. Her shoes were gone and one foot was bare. Right now, it still hurt, but soon the cold would begin to numb it.

Tears pricked at her eyes and she quietly cursed herself for the weakness. Crying was the one thing she really hadn't done. Until now. Despite her best efforts, the tears came. Tears of anger, of fear, and of frustration. It was almost funny how so many emotions could produce the same result.

Tears.

Her face felt hot with tears and cold from the chilly air. Her nose ran and she couldn't even wipe it. She lay on the rotted floor of a long closed motel and let everything that had built up inside of her over the past couple of days out. She had no idea when Rainey would return. Or if he would. Or what he planned to do to her once he did. At some point, he would feel that he no longer needed her.

That was one thing he made clear from the beginning.

And then he would kill her.

She felt almost numb to the thought now. Resigned. The tears had stopped, leaving her sniffling and cold. Vic could feel the moisture on her face. The quiet and the darkness closed in on her and made her feel simultaneously claustrophobic and isolated.

Vic closed her eyes and took deep breaths. The release of so many emotions left her feeling tired, but no longer overwhelmed. She blocked out everything as best she could and focused on her breathing.

In and out.

The motion began to calm her mind and her senses. She felt like she was coming back into focus. Coming back into herself. Gritting her teeth, Vic slid herself closer to the wall. Pressing against it, she inched her way up the wall bit by bit until she was upright in a sitting position. The rough wall scraped against her back. It wasn't comfortable, but at least she wasn't lying face down in the filth anymore. Her face was freezing where her tears were still drying and it was still hard to catch her breath.

But she was alive.

And whether Rainey Miller liked it or not, she planned to stay that way.

xxx

The FBI hadn't been back. For that, Ferg was grateful. He had halfway filled in Ruby, who was sick with worry. He was reluctant to leave the office in case Walt called again. He had seen on the news where one of the man had been arrested.

Curtis Hawkinson, they said.

For a brief moment in time, Ferg felt bolstered by the news. Maybe this was the beginning of the end. But, when he actually listened, there was no mention of Vic. That struck him as odd. Normally, the news would carry word of a potential hostage. Unless the FBI was holding that card close to their chest.

He and Walt were the only other ones who knew. Walt wasn't in the habit of speaking to the media. Never had been. Ferg hadn't spoken to anyone. But…why not release it. He had disliked Donovan immediately.

So had Walt.

He wondered if Walt knew. Without a cell phone, he could only wait to see if Walt would call again. So, wait he did. He sat at his desk and waited.

At first, he tried to get some actual work done. That proved fruitless. His mind kept veering off to Vic and then to Walt.

So, he began to look through the news, while the office sat empty and quiet.

When the phone did ring, Ferg nearly jumped out of his chair. He didn't even bother with any formalities.

"Hello?"

He breathed a sigh of relief at the familiar deep voice.

"Hey, Ferg."

"Sheriff, have you heard?"

He could almost picture Walt nodding in the absent way he did.

"About Hawkinson. Yep. Saw it on TV."

"They didn't mention anything about Vic."

A beat of silence.

"Not at all?"

"No. Nothing. They just mentioned the other two men."

"So…the FBI hasn't released that information."

Ferg frowned to himself.

"Wonder why?"

"Don't know. The media would run with it. That's the kind of stuff they eat up. Hear anything else from Donovan?"

Ferg tapped a pen idly against his desk. He hated feeling useless.

"No. It's quiet here."

"Good. Maybe he'll leave you alone."

Ferg sighed.

"I wish you would let me do more. I care about, Vic, too."

He heard Walt sigh through the phone.

"I know you do, Ferg. But…I could face prosecution over this. With the wrongful death suit…I could very well lose my job. There's no reason for you to get mixed up in it. Just stay there and take care of the county. That's the best way you can help."

Walt paused.

"I gotta run."

With that he disconnected the call.

xxx

"_Are you sure they don't hurt your feet?"_

_Vic looked down at the new work boots she wore and nodded._

"_Yeah, they're exactly the same as the last pair."_

_They were sitting in the Red Pony eating. He noticed her appetite came and went in waves. And right now, she was hungry. Walt watched her eat, mainly picking at his own food._

"_Good, huh?"_

_Vic nodded._

"_Yeah."_

_He took a sip of his beer._

"_Can I ask you something?"_

_She glanced across the table at him uneasily._

"_About?"_

_Walt looked around the bar and then back to Vic._

"_How are you? Really?"_

_Vic frowned._

"_Walt you've been with me the whole time. Except for a few hours when you went to work. Literally."_

_He nodded._

"_I know. But…it feels like you're holding back."_

_Her eyes widened._

"_I'm holding back?"_

_He could tell by her emphasis on the "I" where she was headed._

"_Vic…"_

_She wiped her hands on her napkin and shook her head._

"_No…not two hours ago…I was completely honest with you. I mean...I told you…what I told you. How am I holding back?"_

_Her voice was a loud whisper. Walt leaned in closer, trying to keep the conversation low and from spinning out of control._

"_I don't mean that. I mean about…your abduction."_

_It was the first time he called it that. What it really was._

_Vic leaned back in her chair._

"_I told you everything, Walt. When you found me and…at the hotel. You know everything. I haven't kept anything from you. Which is a hell of a lot more than you could say."_

_Walt nodded, accepting that statement as fact._

"_You told me what happened. But…not how you're feeling."_

_Vic pushed her plate away._

"_How do you think I'm feeling? Angry, pissed, you know the usual."_

_He kept his blue eyes on her. Vic was starting to avoid direct eye contact._

"_Do you think you need to talk to someone?"_

_Vic shook her head at what he was suggesting._

"_I'm talking to you."_

_Walt pressed on._

"_I'm not a professional."_

_She shrugged._

"_So. You know more about it than anyone. More about me. If I went to a psychiatrist, it would be more about you than anything. You're driving me crazy."_

_Her tone was even, not angry. It nearly made him smile. She was reminding him of herself again. Her head tilted to the side._

"_And you find it funny."_

_Walt shook his head._

"_I don't."_

_The edges of her mouth turned up slightly._

"_I think you do."_

_He continued to try and be convincing._

"_I don't."_

_With that, she smiled._

"_You know you do."_

_He smiled in return._

"_It's not funny. I know. I'm sorry, Vic. For earlier. I'm not good at this."_

_She inhaled deeply._

"_I keep trying to figure out how you were married all those years without seriously screwing it up."_

_His face developed a fond, nostalgic smile._

"_A very patient woman."_

_Vic smiled again._

"_Well…I'm not very patient. You know that."_

_He nodded._

"_Yep."_

_Her smile faded and she grew serious again, her eyes shifting to his plate._

"_You're not hungry?"_

_He looked down at his food._

"_Not really. You done?"_

"_Yeah."_

_She pushed back from her chair and pulled on her jacket, while Walt paid and grabbed his own coat. The air outside was cold and crisp. Walt looked down and ran his boot over the loose gravel in the parking lot._

"_Want me to take you home?"_

_She gave him a long look, her eyes full of questions._

"_As opposed to…?"_

_He shrugged._

"_You could come to the cabin."_

_He sounded tentative and unsure of his own suggestion._

"_I thought this was moving too fast for you."_

_Another shrug._

"_Sometimes…it feels like it is."_

_Vic looked up at him in the darkened parking lot._

"_And the other times?"_

_Walt met her eyes._

"_I don't like not being with you."_

_The words hung between them. Vic stuffed her hands into her pockets and looked out across the parking lot._

"_You do realize that you're giving me mixed signals from hell."_

_Walt nodded._

"_I know. We could just…talk."_

_She smiled at that comment._

"_Yeah…that seems likely."_

_He ducked his face and smiled._

"_Really…we could. There are some things that we need to talk about."_

"_Yes, there are."_

_They walked slowly to the Bronco. Walt paused when they reached it._

"_So…home or…"_

xxx

**Tuesday 10:14 PM**

Walt's attention perked up. Under the cover of darkness he had parked up the street from the house. He was far enough away that he shouldn't rouse suspicion, but close enough to see who came and went.

For the first half hour or so, there was nothing. He knew the kind of truck they were supposedly driving. The much was on the news. There was the possibility, of course, that they secured a different vehicle. But, Walt was fairly certain anyone showing up this time of the night would be worth looking into.

He sat slouched and low in the seat of his Bronco, making minimal movements. The idea was to blend in with the shadows. He kept his eyes trained on the house. Walt tried to keep his mind on the task at hand. He needed to be sharp. Unfortunately, he was lacking sleep that he could definitely use. He would just need to power through.

His brain kept drifting off. Thinking of Vic and where she might be right now. He hoped she wasn't hurt or injured in any way. And as comfortable as possible, considering the circumstances. All he wanted was to find her and take her safely home back to Durant and the familiarity of her life there. This whole experience was making his mind shuffle through his recent decisions and life choices. Needless to say, he wasn't proud of them. At this point, he wanted to ask Vic's forgiveness and tell her that she, alone, was a top priority in his life. He wanted the chance to fix things and make them right.

To get it right. Just once.

If that was possible at this point.

Walt's jumbled thoughts were interrupted by a flash of headlights. Walt peered through the windshield, squinted against the sudden brightness of the lights. He leaned forward, wrapping his arms around the steering wheel.

It was a pickup.

It was the right pickup.

Walt felt his heart thump hard against his ribs. He continued to watch. Even from this distance, he could clearly see that only one person emerged from the truck. It would be Rainey Miller. It looked enough like him under the glow of the porch light.

Walt forced himself not to react. What he needed was for the man to lead him to Vic. If he grabbed him now, that might not happen. He was doubtful Miller would see any reason to cooperate with him being a man who was already staring down a life in prison for crimes already committed. What was one more life on his hands? Walt suspected he was the type of man who would enjoy the power knowing where she was gave him.

No. He would sit and he would wait. When Rainey Miller left his mother's house, Walt would follow him carefully and try to find out where he was keeping her. This situation was delicate and would take all of the patience he possessed. Still, the urge to pull the man into the darkness and beat him senseless was powerful. Walt kept his thoughts focused. He kept Vic and her safety at the forefront in his mind

So, he waited. And waited. He glanced at his watch. Nearly an hour gone since Miller went inside. This was very likely his last visit with his mother. Walt knew from Ferg's intel that the woman was frail and quickly succumbing to cancer. He supposed even a man like this must have some depth of affection for his own mother.

Finally, the door opened and the same figure emerged. Walt watched him closely. The figure paused and looked up and down the street. From his spot farther down, the Bronco wouldn't be very visible. Certainly not enough to warrant concern. After the hesitation, the man moved and entered the truck. The headlights lit up the street and swept across the neighboring houses and yard as it pulled out of the driveway and onto the street.

Walt waited what he felt was the correct amount of time and then pulled his Bronco out. The trick was to say far enough away not to be noticed, but close enough to keep up. It was a delicate balance. Being unfamiliar witth town, it was imperative that Walt keep the truck in his sights. Otherwise, he had nothing to go on and he would be right back where he started.

He tailed the truck as it made a couple of turns. They were in town now, so there were other cars littering the road, further making it easy to blend in. Walt followed him through town and then to the outskirts. There were less cars out here. Less houses.

Walt tapped his brakes and let the Bronco fall a little ways back. He noticed that Miller had slowed down and sped back up. He did need to keep in mind the possibility that Miller's paranoia was greater than he anticipated.

The truck slowed again and then accelerated. Walt shook his head. He gave a signal and turned off. Pausing, he switched off his headlights and did a u-turn on the dark side road he found himself on. Pulling back out onto the road, he slowed and peered out the window. He rolled by an abandoned motel. Walt pressed his brakes and rolled to a stop. Miller was nowhere to be found. But, this looked like a place that might warrant more investigation.

With the threat of Miller doubling back fresh on his mind, Walt's boot left the brake and pressed the gas. The Bronco moved on by the motel and then he turned again with the intention of doubling back and stopping somewhere to collect his thoughts. It was entirely possible Miller saw him. Once they left the main center of town, the pickup and the Bronco were the only cars on the road. Walt would have to assume that Miller was smart enough to be suspicious. Miller may have tipped his hand, however, when he drove by the motel.

Walt found an open gas station and pulled in. Sitting in the dark parking lot, he fought the adrenaline pumping through his system. His instincts told him that he was close. Closer than he could've imagined just an hour ago. Walt didn't have back up so he need to be careful. Very careful. Coming this far would do him no good if he blew it now. There was the very real concern of Vic getting caught in the crossfire. He would wait a bit. Bide his time.

Then he would make his move.

xxx

Vic's eyes snapped open. Somehow, she had drifted off. Exhaustion, no doubt. Her stomach rumbled and rolled at the same time. She felt hungry, thirsty, sick, and cold. Very cold. At first, she wasn't sure what woke her. Then she heard what it must've been.

Footsteps.

She expected to see Rainey appear. He'd been gone for quite some time. Her eyes felt droopy and hard to keep open. All she really wanted to do was curl up and go to sleep. Every move she made felt heavy and like there was a delay between her mind and her body. She forced her eyes to stay open and kept her head leaned back against the wall to keep it steady.

It wasn't Rainey who appeared, but Ozzie.

The smell of whiskey hit her immediately. Not the smooth kind that Walt kept for special occasions. But the cheap stuff that burned its way down your throat and then burned in the pit of your stomach. The kind that people got drunk off.

And she could tell that he was drunk. His shuffling gait was unsteady and wobbly. Ozzie was unable walk straight without jerking this way and that. She couldn't see his face. He stopped and looked around.

"Where the hell is that bastard?"

He was clearly talking to himself, not having acknowledged her presence as of yet. His words were slurred and hard to understand, coming out in a jumble. He kicked at the dirty floor and let out a string of curses.

He finally looked at her. In the darkness, all she could really make out was the white of his eyes. He slowly approached her with the same shaky walk. Kneeling in front of her, the smell of him was so strong, it nearly made her gag.

Reaching out, he roughly pulled the bandana from her mouth. Vic's mouth felt impossibly dry.

"Where's Rainey?"

Vic shook her head.

"I don't know."

Ozzie considered her for a long pause. The air around them felt thick with tension. He was a hothead. Vic knew that without being told. She'd watched him enough to see all the signs.

"Stupid fucker went to see his mommy."

Ozzie stood up. That was news to Vic's ears. But, it would make sense. Why he would risk returning to somewhere he once lived. He did have a connection here. His mother. Maybe she was sick or maybe he just wanted to see her. A few of the puzzle pieces clicked into place in her mind.

Ozzie paced the room, stumbling every couple of steps.

"I ought to kill him when he gets back. Serve the asshole right."

Vic's mind shifted into overdrive. If she had to choose between being stuck with either man, her first choice would be Rainey. Both men were obviously dangerous. But Rainey, at least, had self-control and a brain. She could see that Ozzie lacked both. If he killed Rainey, she would surely be next on the list. And she doubted he would be quick about it.

Vic kept her eyes averted.

A sounds caught both of their attention. Vic glanced in the direction of the nearest broken window. It was a truck. More than likely the truck that Rainey was driving. Ozzie quickly moved back in front of her and shoved the bandana back into her mouth. Then he placed his finger at his lips and backed from the room into the shadows.

Vic listened and could hear a light tread moving through the broken pieces of the building. She noted his confidence in himself must be relatively high. He made no real effort to be quiet. She guessed he felt comfortable here. Safe from anyone who might be trying to find him.

Dirt and old debris shifted under his boots as he came in. He paused and looked at her and then glanced around the room. Seeing nothing amiss, he ignored her and set about reigniting the fire he'd extinguished when he left. That felt like hours ago. Vic would welcome the heat from the fire.

Her gaze shifted to where Ozzie had melted into the wall. She detected the tiniest bit of movement. Rainey was bent over the fire, working at restacking the wood and adding enough new to catch a blaze. His back was to Ozzie. Vic swallowed, despite her lack of saliva. With this damn bandana in her mouth, there was no way for to speak.

But that didn't mean she couldn't get Rainey's attention.

As Ozzie began to creep forward, Vic slid her uninured foot across the floor to and forced garbled words through the cloth in her mouth. The movement and the sound was enough to get him to turn from the fire.

It was nearly too late.

He turned just as Ozzie lunged, his big hands gripping a large knife.

xxx

"_So much for your big plan."_

_Walt was in a half asleep post coital haze when her voice broke the silence of the bedroom._

"_Hmm?"_

_Vic rolled onto her side and propped her head up on her hand so that she could look at him. The other hand rested on Walt's abdomen, just below his ribcage. He turned his head towards her. _

_Vic sighed and mimicked him._

"_We can just talk."_

_A lazy smile worked across his face._

"_We did talk. Some."_

_Vic rolled her eyes._

"_Okay. Sure. Walt, you know this isn't healthy, right?"_

_His forehead crinkled._

"_It felt pretty healthy."_

_He was treated to another eye roll. He didn't mind. It was those sparks of her old self, her normal self that heartened him. The hand that was on him, slapped at him gently. His eyes opened a little wider and he met her gaze clearly for the first time._

"_You wanna talk now?"_

_It was an invitation he didn't sound invested in._

_She sighed._

"_Tell me something."_

"_What?"_

_Vic shrugged._

"_Anything."_

_He was smart enough to read between the lines. He nodded slightly._

"_When you were missing, I didn't care about anything else. Not my job, not the FBI. None of it. It was like…the night Chance Gilbert held the gun to your head. All I wanted was you safe. I didn't care whether he shot me or not as long as you were away from him."_

_Her eyes were focused intently on him._

"_Why did you tell me that then?"_

_He blew out a breath._

"_You were married. It wouldn't have been right."_

_Vic pressed her chin into the heel of her hand, considering his answer._

"_Why didn't you tell me after you gave me the divorce papers."_

"_Because I was a coward. Suddenly, you were available and I was too wrapped up in my own problems to tell you the truth. I was…afraid."_

"_Of me?"_

_He shook his head._

"_Of us. And everything that came with it."_

_He paused and she could see him mulling his next words._

"_And then…everything happened with Branch. It just…snowballed from there. I'm not…making excuses, Vic. I know it was wrong. But, it was a distraction from what I was feeling."_

_She inhaled and let the breath out slowly._

"_Why did you push me away? I…wanted you then. Wanted there to be an us. I…came to your cabin with that on my mind but you weren't there. Henry was."_

_He frowned up at her._

"_When was this?"_

"_When you went after Nighthorse. That's when I realized…that you weren't over your wife. At least…not the part where you wanted to punish the person responsible. I understood. I did. But…it hurt. You get so…tangled up in the past sometimes that you can't see what's right in front of you."_

_His jaw flexed a little._

"_I know. I'm sorry I hurt you. That…wasn't my intention."_

"_I know."_

_She slid her hand over his skin lightly, her eyes shifting down. He extended one hand touched her hair._

"_I'm sorry for all of it. I'm sorry that I didn't let you in. That I didn't turn to you instead of…"_

_His voice faded out, but they both knew. She smiled a little._

"_I'm sorry, too. I guess I could've been more understanding when you came back from your leave. I didn't exactly welcome you back. I should've known that wasn't…you. That you were carrying something."_

_His hand fell away from her hair and landed on hers. Vic swallowed and then spoke again._

"_What do you want? Now? Tell me the truth."_

_Walt answered her without hesitation._

"_Another chance to fix this. To set it right."_

"_You have got to stop shutting me out. And you've got to stop being so afraid to just…express yourself. I'm not made of glass. I'm not gonna break. I already told you that. If you're not comfortable with the idea of us…I need you to be honest with me."_

"_I want to be comfortable with us, Vic. I'm trying to get there."_

"_What's stopping you?"_

_Walt thought for a moment._

"_Myself. Other people's expectations. You know…it won't be easy. You do work for me. There's no way around that fact. There are a lot of people who won't approve."_

"_Do you really care about what people think?"_

_Walt shook his head slowly._

"_No."_

"_Then don't you think that is an obstacle we can navigate."_

_She had scooted closer to him. _

"_I do. Think that we can. But, I need you to be patient with me."_

"_Time? That's what you meant?"_

"_Yep."_

_She smiled._

"_I'm sorry that I flew off the handle. I should've let you finish."_

_Walt returned her smile._

"_What do you say we stop apologizing for things and just move forward from here?"_

_Her warm breath washed over him as she laughed under her breath._

"_I think that's a good idea."_

_xxx_

_Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,_

_Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;_

_ Edgar Allan Poe "The Raven"_


	7. Ch 6: Fight or Flight

**Ch. 6: Fight or Flight**

**Wednesday 12:02 AM**

Vic winced as the two men crashed into each other. Ozzie was the bigger and stronger of the two. And he was armed with a hell of a knife. She saw the knife blade flash as he attempted to bring it down onto Rainey. Rainey sidestepped and managed to shove the larger man off balance, using his size against him. Ozzie let out a muffled grunt and sputtered curses as he hit the hard packed floor with a scuttling sound and sending the knife sliding.

Rainey turned on Ozzie and kicked him hard in the ribs while he was down with the toe of his boot. Grabbing Rainey's boot, Ozzie twisted it with a sharp move, sending Rainey into a heap with a yelp. The big man groped around in the dark for the knife, finally finding it. Rainey had his hands planted on the ground trying to push himself up. Ozzie steadied himself and lunged again. Again, Rainey managed to slide just out of reach of the knife. He swung hard with his right hand and managed to catch Ozzie square in the jaw.

Vic heard bone crack between the two men at the solid contact of fist into bone. The knife again hit the ground with a metallic clatter, followed by both men who were grasping for it at the same time, shoving at each other. It was Rainey who got his hand on the knife handle first. He rolled around and used his legs to shove Ozzie away from him. Ozzie stumbled back but didn't fall. Regaining his balance, he charged again, his face illuminated with rage. Vic winced at what she could see coming that the man's anger clearly prevented him from seeing.

Rainey brought the knife up just as Ozzie was within arm's length. The knife made contact with the soft flesh of his stomach and a low gurgling sound escaped Ozzie as his body reacted and slumped against Rainey. Rainey pulled the knife free and shoved Ozzie to the floor into a twisted heap. He rolled over and began an attempt to crawl across the floor, leaving a smeared trail of blood in his wake. Rainey pulled Vic's 9mm from the back waist of his pants, took aim, and fired at the back of Ozzie's head.

Ozzie's head jerked and then hit the ground with a sickening thud. Vic felt bile rise up her throat at the point blank shot spewing blood and brain matter. Blood began to pool underneath the man's head. Rainey nudged him once with his foot and then shoved the gun back into his pants. His breathing was labored now from the exertion of the fight. Using the sleeve of his jacket, he wiped his face off and spit at the body lying at his feet.

"Fuck."

Turning, he looked down at Vic from where he stood over the now dead body of Ozzie. He stood for several minutes just looking at her with a puzzled expression. Taking a deep breath, he turned away and looked over the body. Taking the heavy load by the feet, he began to drag it across the room with a series of grunts and curses. Vic watched until they vanished into the darkness.

Her eyes turned to the blood that was streaked across the floor. Her own breathing had sped up during the fight. In choosing the lesser of two evils, she hoped her gamble would pay off in some way. She wasn't naïve enough to believe it would endear her to Rainey in any way. Clearly, he lacked the conscience for that. Ozzie had been vocal from the start about killing her. It wasn't his idea to bring her along. With Rainey out of the picture, she would be at his mercy and that would most certainly end with her dead sooner rather than later. Rainey was keeping her alive for a reason. A thought out reason. As long as she was of some use, it would buy her some time. Time to figure something out herself. Or, time for someone to find her. Maybe even Walt. She knew better than to underestimate Walt. He almost always came through when it was important. She knew, from experience, that his instincts were second to none.

She tried to slow her breathing and get her heart reined in some. It was pounding so loud, she could hear it in her ears like a banging drum. She let her head fall back against the wall and closed her eyes, inhaling the musty air deeply. She could hear the shuffle of feet coming back in her direction.

Vic lifted her head and opened her eyes. Sure enough, Rainey reappeared, still breathing heavily. He looked at the blood on the floor. Using his boots, he kicked as much dirt as he could over the smears and then he approached Vic slowly and with purpose. Kneeling in front of her, he pulled the bandana loose from her mouth. She lifted her eyes and met his penetrating gaze.

"You warned me."

He wasn't asking her. He recognized what she had done. Vic nodded, her mouth dry and feeling like glue.

"Yeah."

His dark eyes stayed on her, searching her face.

"Why?"

Vic licked at her lips. She could hear genuine curiosity in his voice. Her move surprised him.

"He was gonna kill you. Then…he would've killed me."

A smile worked its way gradually over his face.

"That's pretty savage, Vic. You're a smart one. I'll give you that. You're right. He was against taking you from the start. Ozzie was…kind of dumb…but useful in some ways. You know, muscle and all that. He was always trying to take over, though. Thought he was smarter than he actually was. Guess I've known this was coming."

She could've sworn that she heard something approaching admiration in his voice. It gave her chills. He glanced in the direction of where he hauled off the body.

"Did he say anything I should know?"

Vic shook her head again.

"He was drunk. Rambling."

Rainey sighed, as though it were something familiar.

"Yeah, he's always liked his booze. I mean…I do, too…but you gotta be able to control it. You know? Can't lose your head over that kind of shit. Like I said, I've known for a while it would come down to this. Me or him."

He reached into the back pocket of his jeans and withdrew a pocket knife. Vic tensed slightly when he flipped out the blade. He laughed under his breath at her and cut the rope binding her legs, pulling it free from her and tossing it aside.

"Lighten up. I'm not gonna kill you just yet. That would be a shitty thing to do seeing as how you just saved my life."

She exhaled in relief and stretched her legs out. Moving them both hurt and felt refreshingly good. Standing up, he considered her. Reaching into his coat pocket, he pulled a granola bar out and dropped it on the floor in front of her. Without another word, he returned to working on the fire.

Vic slowly reached out for the bar. Rainey glanced at her over his shoulder and then turned back to his work. She understood. He was saying thank you in whatever screwed up way he knew how. Vic retrieved the granola bar and tore the wrapper open with shaky hands. She ate it in three bites, trying her best to savor it. It was the first thing she'd had to eat since this whole thing began. Unfortunately, the small amount of food did little to satisfy the powerful hunger that gnawed at her.

Before long, Rainey had another fire going and the warmth started to spread through the space. He sat down against the wall near Vic. Stretching his legs out straight, he leaned back on the wall. Vic looked his way and then returned her eyes to the fire. Her bare foot was numb and the other wasn't much better due to the chill she'd been sitting in up until this point.

"How's the foot?"

His voice startled her. Vic looked down at it.

"Can't feel it very much right now."

She heard him move a bit, trying to get more comfortable.

"Too cold."

She nodded.

"Yeah. I'm sure it'll hurt like hell once the feeling comes back."

He was quiet for a moment.

"I had to do it so you wouldn't cross me. You needed to know not to do that. Also, I can't have you running off."

Vic turned her head and looked at him. Their eyes met and she felt a surge of anger at his wording.

"You chose to do it."

Rainey cocked his head to the side.

"You're mouthy. Anyone ever tell you that?"

Vic smiled humorlessly.

"Everyone."

He laughed at her answer.

"I'll just bet that's the truth. How did your husband feel about it? Ex-husband."

Vic frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean… he tolerated it?"

She shrugged.

"What else could he do?"

He inhaled and sighed.

"If my wife back talked me…there would be consequences."

Vic narrowed her eyes at him.

"Is that your favorite word?"

His jaw tightened.

"You could show a little gratitude. Damn woman."

Vic spoke before thinking about her words as her frustration bubbled over.

"Gratitude? For what?"

He looked somewhat surprised by her question.

"You're still alive aren't you?"

Vic snorted.

"Until you decide I've outlived any use."

He sighed again.

"You know I can't let you go now. It's too late."

Vic shook her head at his statement.

"It's never too late."

xxx

Walt watched the old motel for quite some time. He managed to pull his Bronco off the road and into the cover of some squatty trees and brush. The view wasn't great, but the building sat off the road at an odd angle and he couldn't risk being seen. His eyes searched the darkness for any signs of life. He knew it was right around midnight without even checking his watch. Late or early, depending on perspective.

After sitting so long that his back started to hurt, Walt saw a vehicle coming. It slowed and turned onto what must have been a driveway once. Walt couldn't see much in the dark but he knew it was a pickup truck. It was looking more and more like his hunch was on the money. Walt continued to sit and watch, but there was no more activity. Once he thought he heard a gunshot in the distance and he jumped slightly, his mind racing. He forced himself to remain calm. Out here, it could've come from any direction. It was difficult to judge.

His mind began to work through different scenarios, trying to figure out the best course of action. He could almost imagine Vic in the passenger seat, teasing him about overthinking everything. Whatever he did, he knew patience was the key. Rushing in was likely to get him or Vic killed. Maybe both. He had no idea what kind of setup the men might have inside. Or what kind of weapons. His best chance would be the element of surprise. Or possibly even not being detected at all, depending on how close they were to Vic. What kind of condition she might be in.

Walt's hand was on the door handle and his eyes were on the dark motel. He started to open his door when he saw the headlights of a vehicle approaching. He paused and waited, not wanting to take any chances. Instead of driving on like he expected it to, the car slowed down and almost came to a complete stop. Walt felt his heart speed up wondering who exactly was in the car and what their business was here.

The car was a dark colored sedan. Walt couldn't have said if it was dark blue or black. He watched as the car pulled off the road. Whoever was inside didn't get out immediately. The windows were tinted so that Walt couldn't make out the driver or anyone else who might be in the car. Instinctively, he let his hand come to rest on his holstered Colt.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the driver side door opened and a man appeared. Walt muttered something unintelligible under his breath. This wasn't at all what he had been expecting. It was Donovan. And the federal Agent did not look at all happy to see him.

xxx

_He had to get up to go to the bathroom. There was no way around it. He hated to move. Vic's head was partially on his shoulder and she was sleeping relatively peacefully. For some time now. Walt carefully eased her to the side and guided her head onto her pillow. She let out a low groan and turned, but stayed asleep._

_Walt got up and went into the bathroom to relieve himself. After he washed his hands, he stood at the mirror looking at his reflection. He looked as worn out as he felt. The past week had taken its toll. Rubbing his face, he switched off the light and stepped into the bedroom._

_Pausing, he took in the sight in front of him. Moonlight was streaming in through the half open curtains, giving the room just enough light to make things visible. Vic lay where he left her, her face half buried in the pillow now. Half of her hair hung over her face and the rest was spread out behind her. The sheet was pulled messily across her. Her stomach and chest were mostly covered with the sheet stopping just below her shoulders, revealing the pale skin there. The bruising on the upper part of her arms was fading. The sight of them still brought a hot anger to him, burning in his gut._

_Her left leg was covered but her right one extended out so that it was visible to the thigh. Her foot was still bandaged and stretched out at an angle. He knew the burn would take time to heal. It was a good metaphor for her mental recovery as well. Vic shifted in her sleep, pressing her face more into the pillow and letting out a soft sigh that threatened to melt him on the spot._

_Walt smiled. He couldn't help it. She was beautiful. And once in a while, it still caught him off guard and left him breathless and unable to form words. Here, in his bed, she looked damn near perfect in his eyes, despite the reality of the situation and the harshness she had faced. Her head shifted to the side and her eyes fluttered slightly._

_Vic opened her eyes and a frown crossed her face. She looked around the room like her mind was fuzzy and mumbled._

"_Walt?"_

_She must've noticed his side of the bed was vacant._

_Her voice was low and groggy and heavy with sleep. Walt crossed the distance to the bed and sat down. Reaching out, he brushed her hair out of her face gently with two fingers. Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to her forehead._

"_I'm here."_

_His fingers traced a path down her cheek._

_She looked at him in confusion._

"_What're you doing up?"_

_He glanced behind him._

"_Bathroom."_

_Vic lowered her head back to the pillow and tugged on the sheets and the blanket. Walt grabbed the edge of the blanket and pulled it up, covering her completely. She mumbled something that sounded like thanks. He smiled to himself._

_Walt gently eased himself back into the bed, trying not to jostle her. She was so warm. He just wanted to curl up around her and shut out the world around them._

"_What?"_

_Her voice came to him again, still muffled and drowsy sounding. It affected him in a way he wouldn't have expected._

"_Nothing."_

_With a rustle of sheets and blankets, she rolled to face him, clearly unhappy and dissatisfied with his answer._

"_Didn't we talk about that shit?"_

_Walt leaned in closer to her._

"_What?"_

_Her goldish eyes almost glittered in the dark room with the sparse moonlight peeking in._

"_You…communicating. Or not."_

_He smiled sheepishly._

"_Sorry. Do you really want to know?"_

_She yawned, her hand coming up to her mouth and covering it._

"_Mmm-hmm."_

_Her hand fell away and she kept her eyes on him. Walt offered her a shy smile. He wasn't sure why these moments made him feel like a young boy with his first crush all over again. He knew Vic better than most people. And she knew him as well. In a way not many people did. But the sheer look on her face made his mouth go dry and his heart thump hard in his chest._

"_I was just thinking that…you're beautiful."_

_It sounded almost ludicrous and he half expected Vic to roll her eyes and make a smart comment. Instead, her eyes widened a little and then a smile crossed her face. A slow, easy smile that warmed him all over. She cleared her throat before she spoke. Like she was afraid she would get choked up._

"_Trying to get laid again?"_

_Walt shook his head earnestly._

"_Nope."_

_Vic rolled toward and into him, pressing her face into his chest. Walt slid his arms around her, pulling her closer and pressing is nose into her hair. He loved the way she felt and the way she smelled. There really wasn't anything about her that he didn't love. Even her sharp tongue and her propensity for swearing was oddly endearing to him. Because it was who she was and she didn't make apologies for it. Finally admitting it to himself was oddly freeing. Liberating in a way he never expected. _

_Donna made him feel constrained. Like he was trying to be someone he wasn't. Sometimes, in her presence, he felt uncomfortable just being himself. Like when she offered him a glass of wine when he wasn't really a wine drinker. Wasn't that the kind of thing you should know about someone you cared for? With Vic, he never felt like he needed to put on any kind of a show or mute who he really was. With her, he felt like his most honest self. _

xxx

"You're missing your chance, Agent."

Donovan gave Walt a cool look as Walt paced the small room at the local police station. Lacking a decent home base, this was apparently where the FBI set up its camp. The place was sparse and meager in terms of personnel, but the FBI was quickly filling it out with all manner of men and computers. Walt tossed his hat on the metal table in the center of the room in frustration and ran his hand over his hair.

"Sheriff Longmire, you do realize I could've arrested you immediately. I still can actually and I am considering it. Your actions have put this entire operation in jeopardy. You completely disregarded everything that you were told back in Durant. This is what we do. It's not your job to chase fugitives across state lines."

Walt wasn't just mad. He was pissed as Vic would say.

"What operation? I figured this out way before you and your people did. And, now, you're wasting time while my deputy is being held hostage. He's not going to stay here forever. Or keep her alive forever."

Donovan leaned back in the chair he sat in. His relaxed posture made Walt's blood boil. There should have been a sense of urgency to the man. He was sitting there like he was waiting to give his order at a restaurant.

"What makes you think Rainey Miller is even there?"

Walt sighed. They had already covered all of this.

"I followed him from his mother's house."

Donovan looked skeptical.

"You followed someone who looked like him. And you never actually saw him enter the hotel. You saw a truck drive there. That's all. You don't have a positive ID, do you?"

Walt shook his head.

"It was him."

Donovan tapped his fingers on the surface of the table.

"Sheriff, we have a team right now questioning the family. If he is here, we'll find him."

Walt felt like grabbing the man by the front of his pressed shirt and tossing him against the wall a few times.

"If he gets wind that the FBI is here, he'll run. This is your chance to get him. Why did it even take your guys so long get here?"

He could see what was left of Donovan's patience waning quickly.

"Because we follow leads carefully, Sheriff. We don't run off on half-baked theories and rush into dangerous situations blindly. We move based on actual evidence and positive identifications. If you were as concerned for your deputy as you claimed to be, you might consider that your actions are the ones endangering her."

Walt advanced on the man, his anger nearly getting the better of him. His face reddened slightly at the implication that Vic's safety wasn't at the forefront of his mind.

"Do not question my concern for my deputy. Ever."

Something on his face must've rattled Donovan. Or something in the tone of his voice. Donovan stood up and met Walt's advances with a stony gaze.

"Don't make me have you put into a holding cell, Sheriff. I'm about done with your cowboy style of police work. You are out of your depth and certainly out of your jurisdiction. This is our case and we will handle it the way that we see fit."

With that, Donovan turned on his heel and left the room, slamming the door shut decisively behind him."

**Wednesday 4:44 AM**

"What was your husband like?"

Rainey was wired. Since he had killed Ozzie, Vic noticed he was restless. He tried laying down near the fire and sleeping. But, after a lot of tossing and turning, he finally cursed and got back up. He moved around the room, checking the fire and adding wood. He seemed to need something to do. He didn't seem particularly upset about the killing. Just like he didn't know what to do with himself now that it was over.

Not that it mattered to Vic. She couldn't sleep anyway. Her foot was hurting again. Badly. The pain had begun as sharp tingles and developed into a full on ache. Any movement caused fresh pain to course through it. She hadn't been able to get a good look at the burn on her foot, but she knew it had to be serious. Without any type of care, it ran the risk of getting infected.

Rainey finally leaned on the wall a couple of feet from her. Noticing she was awake, he turned his attention to her. The question seemed oddly out of the blue. Her head was leaned against the wall and she rolled it so that she was looking at him when she heard him speak.

"What was he like?"

He nodded.

"Yeah."

Her brow creased. She didn't think about Sean much now that the divorce was final and he had moved on to greener pastures outside of Wyoming. She considered that messy chapter in her life closed.

"He was…"

She shrugged. Rainey gave her a look.

"C'mon. I'm bored as hell and you're the only one here. What was his name?"

"Sean."

"Same last name?"

Vic shook her head.

"No. I didn't take his last name."

He looked at her curiously.

"Why?"

Vic shrugged again.

"I guess I wanted to keep my identity. It's not something I really thought about."

He kept his eyes on her.

"What'd he do for a living?"

"Worked for a gas company. Business end."

"That how you wound up in Wyoming?"

She nodded.

"Yeah."

That was the simple answer as to what brought them from the east. It seemed so long ago to her now. In reality, it wasn't.

He fell quiet before he spoke again.

"What made you become a cop?"

"My father is a detective, my brothers are on the force in Philly. It's just what I always pictured myself doing. Never thought about doing anything else."

"Do you like it?"

She paused before continuing.

"Not right now."

The obvious sarcasm in her voice made him smile.

"Understandable. You know it's nothing personal right? I mean… you just happened to be there? Wrong place, wrong time? We weren't targeting you specifically. We only wanted our truck."

Vic shook her head at his attempts to justify his crimes.

"It feels personal to me. Knowing someone plans to kill you feels pretty personal."

His face stayed neutral despite her sharp tone.

"I can see where you would feel that way."

Vic looked over at him again, wondering how far she could push him. How much information he would be willing to give her.

"How many people have you killed?"

Her question clearly caught him off guard.

"Uh…"

Vic prodded him.

"You don't know?"

He shook his head. Vic kept going.

"You know everyone is something to someone. A parent…a sibling….a friend."

"I know that."

His voice was quiet when he spoke to her again.

"So…who are you?"

Vic frowned.

"Me?"

He nodded.

"Yeah."

"I have family. Back in Philly. Parents, my brothers."

In the dark edges of the room, she was having a hard time reading his face. He shrugged off her words.

"Guess I just don't think about that part."

"Maybe you should."

He shook his head at the suggestion.

"It's a nice thought and all. But…sometimes you have to kill to survive. Some of us aren't all that different from animals."

He pushed up from the floor and moved closer to the fire, the light illuminating his face and his dark eyes. Vic shook her head.

"You are who you are because you choose it."

He looked her way and she could see the anger that was back in his face. He turned his body all the way facing her.

"You don't know a damn thing about me or why I am the way I am."

She tilted her head at him.

"I know you came back here for some reason. What is it? To see someone?"

He looked away. Vic knew she needed to tread lightly. She didn't want to tip him off that Ozzie had said anything about his reasons for coming to this place.

"It's none of your business."

"Oh…so, you get to know my business but not the other way around. You're gonna kill me anyway. What difference does it make if you tell me personal things? It's not like I'm gonna tell anyone."

He huffed.

"Women like you…"

He stopped. Vic could sense she had tapped into something.

"Women like me?"

He took a few steps from the fire in her direction.

"You don't…know your place."

Vic swallowed.

"What is my place? Why don't you tell me?"

He took a few more steps and was almost directly over her.

"You should keep your mouth shut unless someone wants you to open it."

Vic almost smiled.

"I guess we wouldn't be friends, would we?"

He shook his head.

"No…we wouldn't. Are you the only woman in your department?"

"Yes. There's only three of us."

"So your boss is a man?"

Vic nodded, hating to think of Walt. It was easier not to.

"Yeah."

"He a good man?"

She did smile then. Faintly.

"He tries to be. But…no one is perfect."

Rainey tilted his head.

"You smile when you talk about him. Even here. You didn't smile when you talked about your family. What gives?"

He gestured around the room. Vic cursed herself mentally. She averted her eyes, hoping for a subject change. Or even silence. But, Rainey's curiosity was getting the better of him.

"You having a thing with your boss?"

"No."

She answered quickly. Maybe too quickly.

It wasn't a complete lie. There wasn't actually anything going on between them physically. Mentally and emotionally was an entirely different story. But, there was no need to go there with him if she didn't have to.

"He has a girlfriend."

Even that might've been stretching it some. She sensed things were not great between Donna and Walt. That thought always left her conflicted. As much as she didn't like Donna, she did want Walt to be happy. In the beginning, he seemed like he might be. But, more recently, he was tense and on edge. Snappy if she even brought Donna up.

"But he's not married?"

"No."

He shrugged.

"Then he's available. Believe me on that one."

Vic just shook her head, really not wanting to talk about Walt anymore.

"Girlfriend aside, you have feelings for him?"

She echoed his word.

"Feelings."

She was at a loss with his perceptive prying.

"Are you into him?"

She remained quiet and Rainey actually smiled.

"I think you are."

Vic shook off the thought.

"It doesn't matter either way. It's not like I'll see him again."

"So why not be honest with yourself?"

She had done a whole lot of that recently. God knows she was alone with her thoughts enough. Vic attempted to turn the tables.

"Do you have a girl?"

His smile remained.

"Why? You interested in the job?"

"Not at all?"

He mocked being offended.

"Hey."

Vic just fell quiet. Rainey let out a sigh and stood up. He shuffled around the room, kicking at the dirt and debris that littered the floor.

"I've done what I came here to do. It's time to leave."

Vic felt a panic rise up in her. Staying it one place would make them easier to trace. If he moved, there was no telling where they would be headed or what he would do to get there safely.

"Where?"

He glanced down at her and shook his head.

"That's not for you to worry about. That body in there will start smelling before long anyway. We need to not be here when it does."

He paused and looked in the direction he had drug the body.

"Looks like it's just the two of us. Just as well, I guess. A man and a woman won't attract as much attention as three men and a woman."

He started to kick dirt over the fire and stomp on it with is boot to put it out. Before long, it was just smoldering wood and smoke. Taking Vic by her arm, he tugged her up onto her feet. Fresh pain shot through her injured foot and she nearly lost her balance.

Rainey tightened his grip.

"Careful."

Vic looked down at her feet.

"I don't have any shoes."

Rainey's eyes trailed down her legs to her one bare foot and her one foot with it's now dirty sock. He shrugged like it was the least of his concerns.

"Put your other sock back on. Can't risk you running off."

Vic managed to retrieve her discarded sock off the floor as he took her by the arm and pulled her along beside him. Once in the truck, she managed to pull it on. At least it provided some warmth. The heat in the old truck wasn't great and Vic wrapped her arms around herself in an attempt to maintain some body heat.

The sun wasn't up yet as Rainey pulled the truck out onto the highway and the miles began to roll by. Vic let her head rest against the window, watching the landscape as it rolled past.

xxx

_Walt was at the stove when Vic came in looking sleepy and adorably rumpled. She glanced around his arm at the pan he was busy with._

"_Pancakes? Wow…impressive."_

_Walt smiled._

"_Not really. It's always been one of Cady's favorites. Whenever she comes over for breakfast, I always make them. She likes my pancakes."_

_He felt her hand trace lightly across his lower back. Her hand was warm through the thin material of his t-shirt. It didn't escape his notice that she was wearing his button down denim shirt from the day before. Walt noted how much better it looked on Vic than on him. _

"_That's…sweet."_

_He flipped a pancake and waited patiently for it to brown. Vic leaned on the counter so that she could see his face._

"_You going in today?"_

_Walt nodded._

"_Yeah, there's only so much Ferg can handle."_

"_Well, I could work if you would let me."_

_She could tell by his expression her idea was not well received. _

"_You're have an injured foot, Vic. And you've experienced trauma. You should take a few days. You are taking a few days."_

_He slid the pancakes onto a plate and set them aside while he moved towards the refrigerator. _

"_I came in the day after Chance Gilbert gave me a concussion, Walt. A foot is nothing after that."_

_Walt pulled juice out and closed the refrigerator door._

"_I should've put my foot down then, Vic. With both you and Branch. I'm not going to make the same mistakes again."_

_She sighed as he slid pancakes onto plates and set them on the small table in his kitchen. Vic took a seat and looked at him from across the table._

"_This sitting around is driving me crazy. What about my mental health?"_

"_That's something else, Vic. You need time to let your mind heal as much as your body."_

_She shot him an unhappy look as she forked a bite of food into her mouth._

"_Can you, at least, drop my off at my trailer then?"_

_Walt paused._

"_You can stay here. I don't mind."_

_She shook her head._

"_My clothes are at my place. I don't have anything here. Since I don't have a vehicle…"_

_He nodded, listening to her while he ate._

"_I'll drop you off on my way in."_

"_Why don't you let me go to the station with you and pick up my truck?"_

_He looked up at her from his plate._

"_Can you drive with your foot?"_

"_Yes, I can. It's not like I'll be driving around barefooted. This not being able to go anywhere is driving me crazy slowly. If you want me to play by your rules, you gotta give me something, Walt. Please."_

_Her voice had taken on a pleading tone and not one he heard from her very often. _

"_Okay."_

_His agreement to her request was greeted with a smile. A real smile. _

"_Thank you."_

_He pointed his fork at her._

"_On once condition."_

_Vic blew out a frustrated breath._

"_What?"_

"_You don't use the truck to come to work until you are medically cleared by a doctor. Preferably Dr. Weston."_

_She looked at him for a long moment before she nodded._

"_Deal."_

_Walt looked at her skeptically._

"_Really? Just like that?"_

_Vic nodded and finished off her breakfast. Her mood was improving. _

"_Yes. I'm supposed to go back and see him tomorrow anyway. There's no medical reason why I can't come into the office, at the very least. I'll talk to him about it then."_

_Walt sighed, but she had him there._

"_I want to see an actual release. Not just your word."_

"_Fine. I will provide you with documentation, Sheriff."_

_With that, she stood up and set her plate in the sink. Turning the tap on she rinsed it off._

"_Want me to wash this?"_

_Walt shook his head._

"_No, I'll get it in a few minutes."_

_Vic shrugged._

"_Suit yourself. I'm gonna get dressed."_

_Walt nodded as he stood up with his own plate. She brushed by him on her way to the bedroom. By the time, Walt was done with the kitchen, she was sitting on his bed tugging on her new boots. He noticed the slightly pained look on her face when she slid her injured foot in and it made contact with the insole._

"_Hurting again?"_

_Vic took a breath and stood up, trying to keep her weight off the foot._

"_A little."_

_He studied her face carefully trying to determine if she was being honest. Vic tilted her head._

"_Walt?"_

_He snapped out of whatever thought he had unwittingly drifted into and nodded his head._

"_Okay. Let me finish getting dressed and we'll go."_


	8. Ch 7: In the Wind

**Ch. 7: In the Wind**

**Wednesday 11:22 AM**

A bump in the road woke her. Vic's head thumped against the window and she looked up and around in confusion. Her eyes moved to the window and the rolling landscape. She had no idea how long she'd been asleep or where they were. Her mind felt groggy and clouded over, making gathering her thought nearly impossible. Her vision was swimming, making keeping her eyes open difficult.

"Good morning…almost afternoon. I wondered if you had up and died on me."

Vic's forehead creased as she turned her head towards the voice. Rainey glanced at her before turning his eyes back to the road. Vic licked her lips but her mouth was too dry for it to do any good. It was hard to even form words.

"Where are we?"

Her head was hurting and her throat felt like it was on fire. The words came out sounding raspy and hoarse. The air around her in the cab of the truck felt cold, making her shiver slightly. Rainey shook his head.

"Wow, you sound like shit. Look like it, too. You getting sick?"

The conversation sounded perversely mundane considering the circumstances. Vic rubbed at her head with her still cuffed hands.

"Feel like shit."

Rainey looked at her again, with an expression that almost looked like concern. Not that she would've called it that. If he were really concerned, he would let her go. That's where her train of thought took her.

"You really don't look good."

"Gee thanks."

The words came out snappy and he shrugged.

"Damn, you don't gotta be a bitch about it."

No matter how many times she blinked or how many minutes passed, Vic couldn't get her mind straight. A sick feeling was taking root in the pit of her stomach and she felt the pain of her empty stomach combine with a wave of nausea.

"Pull over."

Rainey looked surprised by her demand.

"What?"

Vic turned on him.

"Pull the fuck over."

It must've been something in the way she looked because he pulled the truck off the road without another word. Vic pulled at her door handle and slid free of the truck. She hobbled around the back of the truck, ignoring the bursts of pain shooting through her foot. Dropping to her knees on the grass, she heaved and wretched.

Lacking anything to actually throw up, the fluid in her stomach was all that actually came up. It left a sour, bitter taste in her mouth. The rest was dry heaving. Rainey stood behind her, his eyes on the road. Waiting.

After what felt like an eternity, the heaving stopped. Vic was on her knees with her head bowed. Now her head actually felt like it was going to explode at any moment. Rainey reached out and tapped her back.

"We need to go."

Vic shook her head.

"I can't."

Again her words were raspy and barely there. He shifted on his feet, his eyes darting from Vic to the road.

"C'mon, get up. We gotta move."

She lifted her head and met his eyes.

"Just leave me here."

Rainey shook his head.

"You know I can't do that. Come on."

He bent down and took her arm. With a surprising amount of force, Vic wrenched free.

"Leave me."

She barked out the words. Rainey's patience was growing thin. She could read it on his face. His jaw was set stubbornly and his hands rested on his hips.

"Get up!"

His voice was terse and impatient. Vic shook her head. Despite the chill, she almost felt like she was sweating now with frustration and anger coursing through her.

"No."

Rainey took her arm again and tugged sharply. Instead of pulling her up, he nearly made her land face first on the ground. Vic was either unable or unwilling to get her feet under her. His grip was tight and rough. No doubt, he was leaving marks that would later bruise.

"Get the fuck up!"

He pulled again. Again, Vic snatched her arm free, nearly knocking him over. Rainey paced in front of her before coming to a stop. Reaching behind him, he pulled her Glock from his pants and aimed it at her.

"Get up or I swear to God, I'll shoot you right here."

He sounded like he meant it. He sounded like the cold blooded killer that she knew him to be. Vic looked up into the gun without blinking. Her face was pale and nearly blank. If Rainey was expecting to see fear there, he was disappointed. Maybe even shocked.

"Do it."

His mouth dropped open a bit when she spoke the words out loud to him.

"What?"

Vic's hazel eyes held his dark ones.

"You heard me. Do it. Shoot me."

The standoff stretched out with the gun still in his hand and Vic still staring up at him unblinking and unwavering. An eternity seemed to pass while they remained, not moving and neither backing down. Rainey's finger sat on the trigger and his eyes stayed directly into hers.

Finally, he lowered the gun, his arm dropping to his side.

"Fuck."

He muttered the word and shoved the gun back into his pants. Vic finally exhaled. Reaching down, Rainey placed his cold hand on her head and then pulled it away.

"You're hot. Like you got a fever. Get up and get in the truck."

He held out his hand again and took her arm. Vic dropped her head and let him pull her up to her feet. The roughness was gone. She pulled away from him and eased into the passenger seat. Rainey climbed in and sat with his hands on the wheel like he was trying to decide what to do.

Vic looked down at her feet.

"My foot's infected. It's gotta be."

He nodded his head in agreement.

"Yeah."

With that, he shifted the truck into gear and pulled onto the road. Vic leaned her head back against the seat and looked out the window, repeating her earlier question.

"Where are we?"

Rainey kept his eyes on the road when he answered her.

"Colorado. Near Colorado Springs."

Vic inhaled deeply, trying to keep her mind in the conversation. Rainey tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

"We need gas but…I really need to get us a different car. This one'll be all over the news."

Vic rolled her head in his direction.

"Don't kill anyone. Please."

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye and shook his head.

"You know I can't promise that." 

xxx

Walt looked up as Donovan came in, his walk brisk and business like. He carried a cup of coffee and set it down in front of Walt. Walt looked at and then back to Donovan, his eyes full of questions.

"Well?"

Donovan sat in the chair across from him. Walt leaned forward and lifted the cup to his mouth, taking a drink of the coffee. The coffee wasn't great, but he could certainly use the caffeine. He hadn't gotten any sleep and his stress levels were likely at a record high.

"They weren't there."

Walt felt deflated and frustrated.

"Now."

Walt's head cocked to the side.

"What do you mean now?"

Donovan leaned back in his chair, clasped his fingers together, and rested them in his lap.

"There's evidence to suggest that they were there. At some point."

Walt gave him an inquiring look.

"What kind of evidence?"

Donovan studied him with the same cool look.

"The remains of a fire for one. The body of Oscar Swift for another."

That got Walt's attention.

"He's dead?"

Donovan nodded.

"Yes. There was a stab wound to his stomach and gunshot wound to the back of his head. Looks like he was in quite a fight as well. The body was pretty beat up."

Walt set his coffee cup down.

"Miller?"

Donovan shook his head with a shrug.

"No way of knowing that just yet. The body is being autopsied by one of my people. There was…a considerable amount of blood on the floor. We believe it belongs to Swift."

Walt felt sick.

"Let's hope so."

Donovan stood up.

"I know what you're going to say, Sheriff, so save it. We don't know when they were there. We have no idea when they left. We're trying to establish a timeline. Even if we had gone in last night, there's no guarantee it would have proved fruitful."

Walt stood up, his physical bearing intimidating.

"He was there last night. You blew it, Agent. And if anything happens to my deputy, the entire world is going to know that the FBI had a chance to apprehend a violent, dangerous man and was too concerned with protocol to make a move."

Donovan narrowed his eyes.

"Don't threaten me, Sheriff."

Walt shrugged nonchalantly.

"It's not a threat."

He paused and took a breath.

"I want to see it. Inside the motel."

Donovan shook his head.

"It's a crime scene."

Walt was adamant.

"I want to see it. I'm well aware of crime scene protocol, Agent. I just want to see it for myself. That's all I'm asking."

He could see Donovan mulling it over in his head. Finally, he relented with a nod.

"Fine. I'll drive you over there. But, you are not investigating this case, Sheriff. I'm only doing this as a professional courtesy. What I really should do is throw you in jail and go on with my day."

And because he knew Walt had a point earlier. Walt merely nodded and grabbed his hat off the table.

"Understood. I just want to look around for myself. I don't think that's unreasonable."

Donovan nodded.

"I don't want to work against you, Sheriff. I want this case solved. Just like you do. I've been after Rainey Miller for quite some time. I cannot let my emotions or any feelings I have about this case cloud my judgement. That's how mistakes are made. I understand how invested you feel and I assure you that it's my goal to keep your deputy as safe as possible. My primary concern, however, is getting this man off the streets and put away."

Walt shrugged, placing his hat on his head and pushing it into place.

"Putting him away is your problem. Keeping my deputy alive is mine."

He walked by the man out the door without giving him another glance.

**Wednesday 12:12 PM**

The truck sat in the back of a crumbling parking lot. Paper crinkled as Rainey fished around in the sack he held, trying to come up with all of his French fries. The smell of the fast food simultaneously made Vic's stomach clench with hunger and it made her nauseous. She swallowed hard, trying to force her body to cooperate and not start heaving again. As hungry as she was, she wasn't sure she could actually keep down food at this point.

Rainey extended his hand and held out a fry in her direction.

"Hungry?"

Vic looked at the offered food and closed her eyes.

"I can't eat."

He looked at her and then ate the fry.

"You haven't eaten hardly anything. You gotta be hungry."

Vic opened her eyes.

"I am hungry. I also feel like I'm gonna puke. So…what you want me to say?"

Ordinarily, she would've exercised more caution but she couldn't will herself to care in the moment. He turned his face towards the windshield, his sharp eyes on the parking lot that was spread out in front of them.

"I'm tired of this cold."

Vic didn't know if he was talking to her or himself. She leaned her head against the cool glass of her window and closed her eyes. The sunlight made the pain in her head unbearable.

"It sounds cliché, but I'm thinking about heading for Mexico. At least it's warm there. Won't have to bundle up all the damn time. Maybe I can even sit on the beach and relax. Can't remember the last time I was able to relax."

Vic's eyes stayed closed.

"Why are you telling me this?"

He glanced her way and shrugged.

"Just talking. You're the only one here so…"

"What are you gonna do in Mexico? Be a bandito?"

He laughed even though her voice held no humor.

"That's funny."

She could hear him chewing.

"No…maybe down there I can start over. Be someone besides Rainey Miller."

Vic shook her head tiredly.

"You are who you are. Running away won't change that. Your shit follows you."

He grew pensive.

"All I know is I'm not going back to prison. I would rather die."

Vic opened her eyes and blinked in the afternoon son. She turned her face so that she was looking at him across the seat of the truck.

"Why didn't you kill me earlier? On the road?"

She could tell her question was unexpected and caught him off guard. He swallowed the food in his mouth and took a long drink of water from a bottle, the plastic crinkling under his grip. She could see him mulling over her question. A crease appeared on his forehead. Finally, he met her eyes and shook his head.

"I don't know. I thought I wanted to. A week ago, I would have. But I…just couldn't. Not then."

She sniffled a little, confused by his answer. The entire time she'd been with him, he made no secret that he didn't plan to let her live.

"Could I have some water?"

Rainey pulled a sealed water bottle from his cup holder and opened it. Holding it out, he nodded.

"Here."

Vic took it and drank a long gulp. The water was cool but not cold. Still, she doubted anything could ever feel as good to her parched throat as that water. She passed it back with shaky hands. Rainey took it and capped the bottle, pushing back into the cup holder.

"Thanks."

He nodded slowly.

"Yeah. How you feeling?"

She shook her head.

"Not good."

He chewed his bottom lip.

"No better, huh?"

Vic lifted her head.

"Infection doesn't magically get better. Not without antibiotics."

He nodded, accepting what she was telling him.

"I know."

With a sigh, he wadded up the bag and tossed it into the floorboard. He returned his eyes to the parking lot.

"I gotta get a car."

Vic remained quiet. Rainey tapped his fingers against the steering wheel like he was considering his options. There were only a handful of cars in the parking lot. He shifted around uncomfortably like there was something on his mind.

"It was my mother."

Vic was confused.

"What?"

He kept his eyes averted.

"You asked at the motel who I was there to see. It was my mother. She's dying. Cancer."

Vic nodded slowly.

"I'm sorry."

He cleared his throat and straightened up in his seat.

"Yeah…me too. She was a good person. She didn't deserve all the shit I've put her through."

The conversation ended there. He started the truck and pulled out, slinging gravel as he went.

xxx

Walt looked around the cold, dark room. His eyes were searching for any signs of Vic. He knelt down and looked at the remains of the fire. Using a partially burned stick, he flipped through the mess of burnt wood and ashes. He narrowed his eyes as he hit something. Something different than wood. More pliable.

Donovan was watching closely. Walt looked up at him.

"It's a boot. Or it was. Not much left of it."

Donovan nodded.

"I can see that."

Walt looked at it again.

"It's the size my deputy would wear. Why would he burn her shoes?"

Donovan shrugged.

"Maybe to keep her from running. As cold as it's been, maybe he thought it would deter her if she didn't have her boots. She would run the risk of hypothermia."

Walt dropped the stick and stood up, running his palms over his jeans. She didn't have any shoes to speak of. What kind of condition was she in? He couldn't find anything to tell him that. A discarded pan sat near the fire but there was nothing remarkable about it.

Donovan pointed.

"Looks like Swift was killed in here. The blood came back as his. See how it's pooled there. And there. These other streaks are where his body was moved."

Walt studied the smears of dried up blood that were streaked across the floor. Knowing it wasn't Vic's gave him little comfort. Other than the burned up remnants of her boots, there wasn't much else to be found here.

He rested his hands on his hips and scanned the room again. He wasn't sure what he expected to find here, but he was left feeling empty. He walked around the room, his boots making crunching sounds over the loose dirt that littered the floor. There were prints but they all ran together and the dirt was sparse and thin, making it hard to identify individuals.

Donovan watched him with his sharp gaze, his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat. Every exhale created a visible puff of breath in the cold room.

"As far as we can see, your deputy seems to be uninjured."

Walt shook his head.

"There isn't anything to see except for blood. Just because it's not hers doesn't mean anything. He could've done something to her before they ever got here. We're talking about a man who has never hesitated to commit violence. And she's the law, which makes her his enemy."

He heard Donovan sigh.

"Are you done, Sheriff? My men need to finish up in here and I need to get back to the police station."

Walt took one last look around the room.

"Any idea where he's headed."

There was a long pause before he heard an answer from the federal agent.

"No."

**Wednesday 2:11 PM**

"Why are we stopping?"

Rainey shifted in his seat.

"I gotta rest. Tired. Didn't sleep last night?"

Vic raised her head and looked at the cheap looking motel he had pulled up to. He looked at the building and then moved his eyes to her. Reaching across, he took her cuffed hands and pulled them to him. He took the cuff off of one hand and cuffed her to the door of the truck. His face was serious when she met his eyes.

"Listen. I'm going in there and getting a room. I can't take you in…obviously. It won't take me but a minute. If you do anything while I'm inside, I'll kill the clerk."

He paused and looked around.

"That kid over there, too."

Vic turned her head and saw a young boy riding his bike around the parking lot. She turned her eyes back to Rainey's and didn't say anything. Giving her one last stare, he pulled the door handle and left her in the truck.

Vic pulled on the cuff but found it secure. There wasn't any way to free it. She could open the door but that would only attract his attention. The motel office had a large glass door that looked right inside. She could see him from where she sat. Every few seconds, he would turn and glance at the truck.

Vic looked at the boy on the bike again. He was pedaling around in large circles and smiling like he didn't have a care in the world. The sight nearly brought a smile to her own lips. Her eyes stayed on the boy and she heard the door open.

Rainey slid in beside her and jingled a key.

"Who the hell uses keys anymore? This place must be a dump."

He started the truck and drove around to the back of the motel. Vic knew without being told he requested this area. There was nothing back here. Only a few cars were parked and the place was quiet. It sat shielded from the road.

He undid the cuff from the door and pulled her out of the truck. She hopped on one foot, leaning heavily on his shoulder. Rainey walked them slowly to the door of the room and unlocked it. They were met with warm, musty air. He wrinkled his nose.

"Damn, that's rough."

Leading her inside, he scanned the room and then led her over to the far side. A sad looking sink sat with exposed piping. The ceramic basin was discolored an ugly yellow and chipped. Rainey lowered Vic to the floor with a thump. Kneeling in front of her, he cuffed her to the pipe under the sink that ran into the wall. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled his bandana out and gagged her. Vic made no move to resist or fight back. Once he was sure it was secure, he shrugged his coat off and tossed it across the foot of the bed.

Sitting down on the bed, Rainey pulled his boots off and them aside. Stretching out, he closed his eyes and was snoring within minutes, leaving Vic in the quiet with only her thoughts. She looked around the room. It was basic with no frills. Two beds with a nightstand in between them. One small dresser with an old TV sitting on top. The room was void of anything that might give it any character.

She leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes. As cheap as the polyester looking comforter on the bed appeared, it looked inviting. Her back and legs hurt from constantly sitting on the floor. Her wrists were so raw, she wouldn't be surprised if they scarred. She could feel the exhaustion getting the better of her. At least, it wasn't freezing in here.

Vic let her eyes drift closed. She hoped that she would fall right to sleep but her mind fought back and began to wander. Of course, the first place it went was right to Walt. Why should that change? She wondered where he was and if he was looking for her. Surely he was. Despite everything that seemed so wrong between them, Walt was dependable when it came to her safety. God, she would give nearly anything just to see him or hear him.

She didn't even realize when her breathing evened out and she drifted off to sleep. Even in her dreams, he was there. She could never quite reach him, though, and it made her ache inside the way few things ever had. It didn't matter how many times she said his name or reached out in an attempt to let him know she was there, he seemed oblivious and confused.

Vic jerked awake, her eyes snapping open. Sweat was beading on her forehead and her breathing felt labored. She took a deep breath in through her nose, trying to calm herself. Her eyes moved to the bed. Rainey was sitting up now, his hair rumpled with bed head and his face looking sleepy. He was watching her curiously, his head tilted to one side. Rising, he stretched his arms up over his head.

He walked over to her and pulled the bandana out of her mouth.

"Bad dream?"

Vic looked away.

"Something like that."

He continued to look down at her.

"You were mumbling in your sleep. Couldn't understand much. Just Walt. That your Sheriff?"

She looked down and he nodded.

"It is? So…I was right. I mean…I don't think many people dream about their boss without a good reason. You're involved with him."

Vic shook her head, raising her eyes.

"No…I'm not."

"But…you want to be."

When she didn't deny it, he accepted it as the truth.

"Does he know?"

Vic shrugged.

"I don't know. A lot has happened between us. Lately…things haven't been great."

She had no idea why she was telling him any of this. Maybe because she just felt so sick and tired of trying to hold back. All of her energy was gone. Rainey moved back over to the bed and sat down.

"You said he has a girlfriend? That the problem?"

Vic's head was pulsing with pain.

"Yes and no. She's the problem. He's the problem. I'm the problem."

Her own words sounded like rambling to her now. Rainey bit his bottom lip between his teeth.

"Have you ever actually told him? How you feel?"

She shook her head.

"Not outright. But…"

She just continued to shake her head.

"It's complicated."

A smile appeared on his face.

"I understand complicated. Believe me."

He was quiet like he was waiting for her to say something but Vic closed her eyes.

"I'm tired."

Rainey stood up and looked at the clock.

"Damn. Didn't realize I slept that long."

He lifted his jacket from the bed and pulled it on.

"Listen, I'm gonna get some dinner and then I'll be back. I don't want to leave until it gets dark."

Vic lifted her head suddenly, as though a thought occurred to her out of the blue.

"Rainey?"

It wasn't lost on either of them that it was the first time she had actually addressed him by his name. He stopped in his tracks and turned around, something unreadable on his face. Even from where she sat on the floor, she could see the action affected him.

"Yeah?"

Vic's eyes held his.

"Thank you."

He looked confused.

"For what?"

"For not shooting me earlier. I…don't want to die."

He looked at her for several seconds before he a small smile pulled at his lips.

"I didn't think you did."

Without another word, he walked over and knelt down. He pulled the bandana back up into her mouth and stood up, his eyes still on her. He shoved his hands into his pockets and shoved his feet into his boots. Turning, he left the room, letting the door click shut behind him.

xxx

"_You're quiet. Is everything okay?"_

_Vic snapped out of her thoughts and looked across the table at Walt._

"_Yeah. Just...thinking."_

_He tapped his fork lightly on his plate, a nervous gesture._

"_What about?"_

_Vic pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and looked down at her half-eaten food. She laid her fork down with a sigh._

"_This is gonna sound weird…but…I don't hate him. Not like Chance Gilbert."_

_Walt was still and quiet, unsure where she was headed with her line of thinking. Except for giving legal statements or discussing the case with the FBI, all of their talking about the ordeal had been general up to this point. She seemed careful not to mention him by name. Walt wasn't sure if it was some kind of avoidance or if it was just difficult for her to talk about. As out of the blue as this seemed, he knew that trauma was a funny, unpredictable thing._

"_Rainey Miller?"_

_Vic nodded her head._

"_Yeah."_

_Walt cleared his throat._

"_Mind if I ask why?"_

_She looked as though she were searching for that answer herself. _

"_There's…something I haven't told you."_

_Walt felt apprehension prickling at his gut. He mentally reminded himself that she didn't need his opinion or his judgement. What she needed from him was a safe place to express what she was feeling without pressure. He tried to keep his bearing neutral and open._

"_What's that?"_

_Vic leaned back in her chair and rested one hand on the table. Tapping her fingers, she averted her eyes. He didn't want to push her. He knew she needed to process things in her own time and at her own speed. Pushing would only make her shut down and that was the worst possible outcome. He knew that from personal experience._

"_When we were driving…we were in Colorado…and I was sick. From the infection, lack of sleep, lack of food. Maybe all of it. And I told him to pull over. He did and I got out and threw my guts up."_

_Walt listened, fighting the natural urge to tense up. It was difficult for him to hear and difficult for her to talk about._

"_When it was over…he told me to get back in the truck…and I refused. He tried to force me and I fought him. He…had my gun and he pulled it and aimed it at me. Told me if I didn't get into the truck, he was going to shoot me. And, right then, I didn't care."_

_Walt swallowed._

"_I looked into my own gun and told him to do it."_

_She fell quiet. Walt continued to wait._

"_But, he didn't do it. He let me live and I have no idea why. I still don't. He never really told me."_

_Walt nodded slowly._

"_Does the why matter?"_

_She frowned. _

"_I thought it did. I thought about that. A lot. But now…I don't think it does. But…in that moment…I saw something in his face. Not the man he was. I mean…I know he was a criminal and he killed people and has done all sorts of bad shit. But…the man who went home to visit his dying mother at the risk of being caught. And…despite everything…I feel…grateful to him. If that's even the word. Because, it was that moment that tipped the scales in my mind. And I realized…that I didn't want to die. I wanted to live and come home. And…tell you the truth. Is that…is that crazy?"_

_Walt shook his head._

"_No, Vic, it's not crazy. I think we've both been doing this job long enough to know that almost everyone has some good in them somewhere. And…I'm grateful to him, too. That he didn't kill you. I…don't think I could've handled that."_

_Her eyes had misted over while she was talking. Smiling weakly, she swiped a hand under her eyes, wiping the unshed tears away._

"_Shit, I've turned into such a baby."_

_She stood up abruptly, and lifted her plate, carrying it to the sink. Walt rose and followed her, moving to stand right behind her._

"_Don't apologize for having feelings, Vic."_

_He pressed a kiss to the top of her head._

"_They'll keep you from going crazy."_

**Wednesday 6:02 PM**

"Hey, wake up."

Vic felt a hand on her shoulder. Opening her eyes, she looked up to see Rainey bending over her, his hand on her, rousing her from sleep. Letting his hand leave her shoulder, he tugged the bandana away from her mouth. There was something in his hand, but Vic couldn't focus enough to see it. He set whatever it was down and untied the bandana, tossing it aside.

Vic flexed her jaw, trying to work out some of the soreness. He reached down and picked up the object he set down. He held it out to her.

"Here."

Vic looked down at what he was offering her. A Styrofoam container. The kind restaurants used for take home plates. Vic looked at it and then up at him. Returning her eyes to the plate, she flipped up the lid and looked at the food.

Rainey straightened up.

"It's not much but…I'm short on cash."

Vic stared at the contents of the plate. A cold roll and a small piece of ham. She looked back up at him and he shifted uncomfortably under her stare.

"Just…don't make yourself sick."

With that, he disappeared into the bathroom and pulled the door shut behind him. Vic could hear the shower start up. She wanted to swallow the food whole, but she forced herself to take small, deliberate bites. It was cold and somewhat congealed but she didn't care. It was food and she needed it desperately. Once she was done, she set the plate on the floor. The sound of the shower was still going.

Vic leaned her head on the wall and listened to the water. She could feel herself starting to drift again, but kept her eyes open. The shower cut off and the curtain drew back with a quick screech of plastic on metal. A few minutes later, Rainey reappeared with wet hair bringing steam along with him.

He glanced towards the window and ran a hand over his hair, brushing it back.

"Getting dark. We can get on the road. I got us a car."

He said it like he was telling her he bought a new car. Vic tilted her head back, looking up at him.

"Where did you get it?"

He gave her a long look.

"I didn't kill anyone if that's what you're worried about. Stole it. Just like when I was a kid. The old fashioned way."

There was a note of pride in his voice. He bent down and picked up the empty take out container and dropped it in the trash can.

"Thanks. For the food."

He nodded, not answering her. Pulling out the keys to the handcuffs, he uncuffed her from the sink pipe. Vic stood up, pain shooting through her legs and her injured foot. Rainey must've noticed the pained look on her face. He put a hand on her elbow and steadied her as she hobbled along beside him.

The car was an older four door model with peeling dark blue paint. The interior smelled like cigarette smoke and burnt motor oil. Vic eased into the passenger seat and let her head fall back against the head rest.

Rainey slid behind the wheel and Vic heard the jingle of keys. Her head snapped back up.

"I thought you hot wired it."

He shook his head with a wry smile.

"No. I jimmied the lock and some dumbass left the keys in the console. Can you believe that?"

Her expression must have told him no because a look of insult crossed his own features.

"You don't believe me? You think I hurt someone, don't you?"

Vic shook her head.

"It doesn't matter what I think."

She turned her eyes away from him and out the window. Rainey continued to sit and she could feel his eyes on her. Finally, he started the car and pulled out.

xxx

Walt was smart enough to keep a low profile. He knew his presence here depended on not causing Donovan problems or starting anything. In truth, he wanted to punch the man. That was his gut instinct. But, Walt knew that would only land him in jail. Then, he wouldn't be of any use to Vic.

So, he played their game. He was polite and cordial. Basically, he stayed out of their way. Or so it seemed. Walt knew the feds were underestimating him. In their eyes, he was some cowboy Sheriff from a small town that had little to no real crime. They would assume he spent his days helping little old ladies cross the street and writing parking tickets. And Walt did nothing to set them straight. Let them believe what they wanted. It would just make things easier when the time came.

So, he floated around, keeping his eyes and his ears open. He knew they had a BOLO out on the pickup Rainey Miller had been driving. He drifted by the officers who were manning the phones and tracking down potential leads called in by local law enforcements officials and concerned citizens. He had his own hunches anyway about where Rainey Miller might head next. His gang was gone. Curtis Hawkinson was in federal custody being questions extensively. Oscar Swift was dead and in the morgue, a victim of his own so called friend.

So that left Miller and Vic. Walt believed she was still alive. Otherwise, they would've found a body or some evidence of violence. He made no attempt to hide the body of Ozzie. Why change that now?

Walt stood at a small cart making himself a cup of coffee. He didn't particularly need or want it, but it was close by where Donovan was brainstorming with a couple of his fellow agents. In the last hour or so, Walt noted a change in their body language and in the cadence of their speech. Where earlier, they seemed somewhat downtrodden and cautious, there was now a sense of urgency in their motions. In their words. They were on to something.

So, he stood, slowly stirring his small paper cup of coffee with one ear to the group. Listening. Piecing together. He was able to pick up enough words to know what they were talking about without hearing the entire conversation.

Truck. Hotel. Positive identification.

Colorado.


	9. Ch 8: Lost and Found in a Border Town

**Ch. 8: Lost and Found In A Border Town**

**Thursday 12:01 AM**

Vic's head was pounding again and she knew her fever was spiking. She would've liked to sleep. But, the discomfort wouldn't allow that. The car rolled along a quiet stretch of seemingly deserted road. This time of the night, they'd only passed a few cars. Vic watched each one and wondered. Who were they? Where were they going? There wasn't much else she could do and she was trying to keep her mind on something.

Her vision was blurry again. No doubt the result of her infected foot and running a high fever. She knew they were somewhere in New Mexico. But, that was all she knew. The signs marking cities and towns blew by without much notice on her part. Travel hadn't gone as well as Rainey hoped or expected. The car wasn't in good condition and had already broken down twice since they got back on the road. Both times, he cursed and hit the steering wheel in frustration. Vic stayed quiet, keeping her eyes away from his. Whatever anger he had built up, she had no desire to catch the brunt of it.

A shift had occurred at some point and she couldn't put her finger on it. The early hostility he exhibited towards her seemed to have evaporated. When helping her in or out of the car, the roughness and impatience was gone. But, Vic kept her guard up. There was no telling what might send him sliding back the other way into anger and potential violence. Whatever was creating the slightly better nature in him was a welcome change as far as Vic was concerned.

"Ever been to Mexico?"

Vic kept her head settled against the window, not opening her eyes.

"No."

He sighed.

"Me either."

She rolled her head in his direction and forced her eyes open.

"How do you plan to cross the border?"

He shrugged.

"Can't be that hard."

Vic turned her attention back to the landscape. Even in the darkness of the car, she could feel him turn his head and look her way.

"How are you feeling?"

Vic didn't even have the energy to shrug.

"Like I have an infection. And it's spreading."

Her words were blunt. He fell quiet and she felt the car accelerate slightly. Vic listened to the hum of the engine and let her eyes drift closed. It was what they wanted to do anyway. She felt so tired but sleep was frustratingly elusive. She kept her eyes closed, hoping she would eventually succumb to sheer exhaustion.

She felt the car slow and opened her eyes. They were driving through what must be a small town. One of several they had passed. She could tell he was familiar with this part of the country. He seemed to know how to stay on the backroads. A few neon signs lit up stores here and there but the place was mostly shut down and the streets empty. Vic lifted her head as sheer curiosity got the better of her. Her eyes narrowed. She could see Rainey's profile. He was sitting up in the seat like he was looking for something, his head swiveling this way and that. Finally, he cut his headlights and turned.

Vic gave him a questioning look.

"What're you doing?"

He didn't answer her. She wasn't even sure he heard her. His attention seemed hyper focused. He pulled around behind a building and parked. Vic felt an old familiar dread start to work its way through her system. Rainey put the car in park and got out. Coming around to Vic's side, he opened the door and took her arm.

"Come on."

She barely had her feet under her when he was towing her along behind him, his hand firmly on her cuffed wrists. Vic looked around. They were moving along a sidewalk that ran alongside a store. A red brick store. The inside was slightly lit up with security lights, but otherwise quiet. Vic started to question him again.

"What…"

Rainey cut her off abruptly.

"Sssh."

He shushed her and continued to pull her along with him. Around the back of the store, he used his free hand to lift a loose chunk of asphalt from the parking lot. With the experience of someone who had clearly done this before, Rainey hurled the heavy chunk at a glass window. The window shattered and alarm started to sound, causing Vic to jump.

Rainey carefully eased himself around the shards of glass and then tugged at Vic's wrist.

"C'mon. Be careful."

With little choice, she followed his instructions and allowed him to pull her inside.

"Let's go. We've gotta move quick. In and out in less than ninety seconds."

He moved with the precision of an old pro. It dawned on Vic where they were now that she was inside looking at the various shelves.

A pharmacy.

Rainey moved behind the counter and sifted through shelves, keeping his hand on her wrist the entire time, his grip tight. He muttered under his breath as he moved from shelf to shelf. The sounding alarm was making Vic's head worse by the passing second. The pain was almost nauseating.

"Got it."

He sounded triumphant.

"Let's go."

He all but drug her from the store. In the distance, Vic could hear the wail of sirens. Rainey nearly made her fall shoving her back into the car and then he slid into his own seat and hit the gas. The car tires squealed as he turned back onto the road and headed for the highway. The car accelerated rapidly as he reached the edge of town and made another turn. With her hands restricted, Vic struggled to brace herself on the sharp turns he was making.

Once he was out on the highway, he fished around in the pocket of his jacket. Vic heard an easily recognizable rattling sound as he fidgeted with the small plastic bottle in his hands. He extended one hand to her.

"Here. Take this."

Vic looked at his open hand but in the dark, it was hard to make anything out. He shook his hand for emphasis.

"Take them."

She still hesitated.

"What is it?"

Rainey shook his hand again in her direction.

"Antibiotics."

Vic slowly held up her cuffed hands and felt him drop pills into her clammy palm. Taking a breath, she slowly put the pills in her mouth and forced herself to swallow them. The pills left a chalky, bitter taste on her tongue. She shook her head at him warily.

"You shouldn't have done that."

Rainey looked her way with a shrug but remained quiet as the car sped down the road.

xxx

"Sheriff! I've been worried."

Walt sat at a vacant desk in a quiet corner of the police station with the phone to his ear. His eyes were busy scanning the room to see if anyone noticed him. Right now, they were all too wrapped up in their own investigations to concern their selves with Walt.

"I ran into some trouble with the FBI."

He could practically hear the tension Ferg was giving off.

"What kind of trouble?"

Walt ran his palm over his hair.

"They found me before I found Vic."

Walt could hear movement in the background, the familiar sound of papers being shuffled around.

"Did they arrest you?"

Walt could hear the concern in Ferg's voice.

"No, but they threatened to if I go off on my own again."

Ferg let out a relieved sigh.

"Where are you now?"

"That's not important. Listen, Ferg, I've got reason to believe they may be in Colorado. Or they were."

"You think he's heading for the border?"

Walt nodded to himself.

"Maybe. He's familiar with that area so he'll know how to avoid being seen. But, I need you to try and find something. My hands are tied here. They've got me on a short leash. I make a wrong move and that's it."

He heard Ferg sigh over the phone.

"Maybe…maybe you should just sit tight and let the FBI handle it."

Walt sighed.

"Ferg, the FBI's main priority is not Vic. It's apprehending Miller. They've as much as told me that. If there's a stand off…I'm afraid it won't end well. I can't stand by and let that happen. I won't."

Ferg was quiet for a long moment.

"Is there a number I can reach you at?"

"No, I'll call you back in a bit."

Walt hung up the phone and heard footsteps approaching.

"Sheriff Longmire, what are you doing?"

Donovan.

Walt stood up and met the man face to face.

"Checking in with my deputy back in Durant."

Donovan's eyes held his for a long moment before he turned and walked off, leaving Walt on his own. Walt's mind was never quiet. Anyone who knew him knew that to be a fact. This time was no exception. He knew, at some point, he would need to make a move and go. But, he wanted to know where he was heading first. He knew the FBI was honing in and getting ready to make a move.

He helped himself to another cup of coffee. Walt milled around, sipping the hot liquid and letting his mind do its work. He would give Ferg an hour before he called again. So far, Miller was managing to stay under the radar. He was taking care not do draw attention to himself. Walt needed him to make a move. To do something careless that would send up a red flag. But, the man was clearly good at what he did. One didn't avoid capture for as long as he had by being stupid. Miller was smart. And he was cunning. He seemed to always be one step ahead of everyone else. Walt knew that was one of the things that drove Donovan. To take down someone like that would be a feather in his cap. It would bring recognition and accolades. That was exactly what worried Walt.

What was Donovan's real priority?

xxx

"_How are you, Deputy?"_

_Vic sat on the exam table, swinging her uninjured leg slightly. The way Weston was studying her made her feel fidgety. Like a small child expecting a reprimand for some unknown reason._

"_Okay."_

_He glanced up from his clipboard and looked at her over the rim of his glasses._

"_Just okay?"_

_Vic shrugged. Weston pulled a stool over and sat down. Vic stilled her leg while he pulled on a pair of gloves and began inspecting her foot with a soft touch._

"_How's the pain?"_

_Weston looked up at her when he asked the question. Gauging her response, no doubt, to see if she was being honest with him._

"_Better. A lot better."_

_He nodded and tilted his head._

"_It's looking very good. Healing like it should. I assume you're keeping it clean and dry?"_

_She nodded._

"_Yeah."_

_She left out the part where Walt was constantly reminding her to change her bandages and wanting to inspect her foot himself._

_Weston released her foot and sat up, focusing his attention on her and pulling his gloves off._

"_Have you spoken with anyone about your ordeal?"_

_Vic knew where he was headed._

"_Not a psychiatrist if that's what you're asking. I have talked about it."_

_He nodded and straightened his glasses._

"_That's good. I know you've experienced trauma before. But, it's all different. If you decide you want to talk to a professional, I can give you some recommendations."_

_Vic pulled her sock back on and slid her foot gingerly into her Converse sneakers. _

"_Thanks. I think I'm okay."_

_He nodded and made some notes, while Vic sat and waited, ready to be free of the hospital. Vic cleared her throat._

"_There is something you can do for me."_

_He looked up._

"_What's that?"_

_She smiled a little._

"_Let my boss know I can come back to work."_

_A frown settled across Weston's face._

"_Don't you think it's a little soon?"_

_Vic shook her head._

"_No."_

_Weston tapped his pen against his knee._

"_Your foot is doing well, but I'm not sure it's up to chasing bad guys."_

_Vic shook her head._

"_But…what about just light duty. Office work. I sit at a desk when I'm in the office. I mean…surely that's safe enough. Sitting around at home is driving me crazy. I need to do something."_

_She could see him considering her point. He sighed._

"_Office work is okay. But, nothing in the field for at least another week. I want to see you again before we take that step."_

_Vic nodded in agreement._

"_I've been told to bring something in writing. He's not gonna take my word for it. Like he has any room to talk."_

_She could see the smile that crossed Weston's face. The man was well acquainted with Walt Longmire and his lack of cooperation when it came to his own safety and seeking medical help. _

_He stood up and pushed the stool away with hit foot._

"_I'll see what I can come up with that will satisfy your boss."_

xxx

**Thursday 1:01 AM**

The car was broken down again. And this time, Rainey didn't seem able to fix it. He'd already slammed the hood with a string of curses and gotten back into the car. He sat in the driver's seat, staring out into the darkness at the road that stretched out in front of them. It seemed like both a literal and figurative dead end.

"I swear I've never had any luck in my life. Fucking figures."

Vic was watching him carefully, trying to gauge his mood and what he might do. He turned his head and looked her way, his eyes finding hers in the darkness.

"Are you afraid to die?"

The question sent a chill up her spine, despite his conversational and inquisitive tone. Vic held his gaze in the dark car, feeling her mind start to whir with possibilities about where this was headed. She still felt sick, but the medicine he was giving her seemed to be working, at least some.

"Why are you asking me that?"

Rainey turned his eyes away from her. They had taken on a distant look.

"When I was younger…I wasn't afraid to die. Maybe because I thought I was invincible like kids tend to do. Stupid…I know considering. It honestly never crossed my mind. But…when we were in Nebraska and I went to see my mother…she seemed so at peace with what was happening to her. The doctors told her she was down to days. She's probably dead by now."

He paused and swallowed, struggling to keep himself reigned in at the mention of his mother.

"But…she told me…that she wasn't afraid to die. That she was ready to go. I've…never heard anyone say that. I've never seen anyone be okay with the fact that they're dying. It sounds crazy but…I envy that."

Vic inhaled deeply, searching for the right words to say.

"Well…she's been sick for a while, right?"

He nodded slowly.

"Yeah. On and off for a couple of years."

Vic shifted in her seat.

"Your mom was probably tired. I mean…maybe she's come to terms with it since she's been dealing with it for so long."

He cast his eyes down towards his lap.

"That's what she told me."

He tapped a finger on the steering wheel.

"I'm not that kid anymore. I've seen a lot of people die. I'm the reason some of them have died. To be honest, it never bothered me before."

Rainey paused in the middle of his thought. After a beat of silence, he continued.

"I was really gonna do it. Or I thought I was at least."

Vic frowned, not knowing what he meant.

"Do what?"

He turned his eyes back to her and it felt like he was looking directly into her. The thought made Vic uncomfortable but she refused to look away. When he answered her, his voice was still the same matter of fact tone she was accustomed to hearing from him, no matter what he was talking about.

"Kill you."

He paused again and Vic felt a shiver run the length of her spine.

"The other day…when you were sick on the side of the road. I was gonna shoot you just like I did Ozzie. But…for the first time ever…I couldn't do it. And you…a damn cop. Why do you think that is?"

Vic's shoulders rose and fell in a shrug, tension settling over her. She licked her dry lips.

"Maybe…you're tired, too. Just in a different way."

Vic didn't know what else to say. This was, quite possibly, the most honest conversation she had ever had with anyone. It was disconcerting in a way she'd never experienced. And, it was making her consider questions she had no real answer for.

She could sense him mulling over her words. Thinking about them. He nodded with a sigh.

"I am tired. That's…why I wanted to leave the country. I wanted to go somewhere and start over. Guess it sounds stupid."

Vic shook her head, understanding the desire more than he knew.

"Not really. But…do you think that's fair?"

He lifted his face.

"How do you mean?"

Vic cleared her throat, knowing this was rough terrain to cover with someone who expressed a desire to kill her. But, this new openness between them propelled her forward, her confidence building a bit. Taking a chance that he really was open to hearing the truth.

"You've hurt a lot of people. Do you think it's fair for you to just…move on and have a happy life without answering for some of the things you've done?"

He smiled ruefully, shaking his head in response.

"God, you sound like a cop."

For the first time in days, Vic smiled.

"Well…I am."

He shook his head and rolled his eyes.

"Jesus Christ. If you had told me a week ago that I would be sitting in a broken down car in the middle of nowhere New Mexico pouring my heart out to some cop from Wyoming, I would have laughed my ass off. Might've shot you in the process just for saying something so damn stupid. This is fucked up as hell."

Vic bit her lip and looked down at her hands.

"This doesn't have to end with you dead, you know."

He shook his head, knowing where she was headed and unwilling to consider the point she was about to make.

"Don't suggest I give myself up. I've been to prison and I meant what I said. I'm not going back there. I'm…I would rather die, I think. I wasn't just saying that."

Vic swallowed.

"So, you would rather…what…go out in a blaze of glory? Get gunned down and maybe take someone with you?"

Her tone was sharp, any caution slipping away.

"You're assuming I'm gonna be caught."

Vic nodded.

"Because…eventually…you will. You can't keep this up forever."

He sighed and she could sense his frustration building. It felt like there was more he wanted to say. Instead, he opened his door and got out, stretching his arms up over his head and taking deep breaths of the fresh air. Vic sat and waited while he walked around the car and opened her door, kneeling down and looking at her in the dim overhead light.

"How's the fever?"

Vic shrugged.

"Up and down I think. I'm feeling a little better. Head isn't hurting as bad."

He nodded as he looked, again, at the road they were on.

"I think the nearest town is a good walk. Several miles, at least. Can't really remember what the last sign said. Guess I should've paid more attention."

Vic shook her head, thinking his intention was for the two of them to walk. She knew that wasn't happening. The pain in her foot was as strong as ever. She needed a doctor. She knew that beyond any doubt. There was no way the foot would support her for any real length of time in its current condition.

"There's no way. You know…there's no way in hell I can walk that far."

Rainey straightened up and looked out across the barren, dark landscape. He reached behind him and Vic felt herself bracing for the gun to be shoved in her face again. Instead, his hand dipped into his back pocket. When he withdrew it, the handcuff key was in his hand. He took her wrists and slid the key in, freeing her completely from the metal. Vic instinctively rubbed at her wrists, wincing at the raw skin.

He tossed the handcuffs on the ground, the metal clattering on the asphalt.

"I guess this is it then."

Vic looked up at him with a face full of questions.

"What?"

Her eyes widened at what he seemed to be insinuating. Of all the possible outcomes, this scenario was one that never crossed her mind. He looked down at her from where he stood just inside the passenger door, a relaxed look on his face. The first one she had seen in her time with him.

"I'm not gonna kill you, Vic. I think you know that. A few days ago…I would have. Without a second thought. And I wouldn't have felt bad about it."

He paused and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket and shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

"Stay with the car and someone should be by at some point. They'll get you to a phone. You can call your sheriff and go home."

Vic couldn't mask the disbelief on her face.

"You're just…letting me go. Just like that. After…everything?"

He shrugged with a wry smile.

"Would you rather I shoot you?"

Vic shook her head slowly.

"I don't suppose you'd give me my gun back."

Rainey shook his head.

"No, ma'am. You would try and stop me and we both know it. Because you're a cop and I'm a criminal. We can't be friends. Remember?"

He pulled one hand from his jacket pocket and tossed the bottle of antibiotics to Vic with a rattle. She caught it with both hands.

"You might want to take two more. They're working…but, infection can be a bitch."

Taking a step back, he paused again.

"For what it's worth…I think in another life…we could've been. Friends I mean."

With that he turned and started walking away, disappearing into the darkness.

xxx

"Nothing?"

Walt was frustrated. His hopes that Ferg would be able to pinpoint something concrete on Miller and Vic were coming up short. He could hear Ferg moving around on the other end of the phone, static rustling through the phone.

"No…I mean…nothing that seems like Miller."

Walt rubbed his temple with his free hand.

"There was a B and E just outside of Colorado Springs. But, they didn't get a good ID and the only thing taken was a bottle of antibiotics. Doesn't fit with Miller."

Walt bit his lip as Ferg continued.

"Several reports of stolen cars. But, there's no real way to know if it was him or what."

Walt sighed and let out a breath.

"Okay, thanks Ferg. For checking, anyway."

He could hear the glumness in Ferg's tone.

"Sorry, I couldn't come up with something, Walt."

"That's okay, Ferg. It was a needle in a haystack."

He heard more movement from Ferg.

"So…the FBI isn't telling you anything?"

"Nope. And they won't let me leave, either. Not right now. How's everything there?"

"Okay. It's been a busy couple of days, but I'm handling it."

Walt felt a flicker of pride in his youngest deputy. Ferg had come a long way since Walt hired him. It was rewarding to see the young man mature and start to carve his own path. To see his confidence in his own abilities grow.

"Thanks, Ferg. For everything."

Walt could see Agent Donovan and the agent's eyes flickered over him.

"No problem. Sheriff. Wish there was more I could do. Keep in touch."

Walt nodded as he shifted the phone.

"Sure thing."

Walt hung up the phone and stood up. Donovan approached him with a suspicious expression.

"Still trying to solve my case, Sheriff?"

Walt's expression gave away nothing.

"Checking in with my deputy, Agent."

Donovan kept his eyes on Walt.

"I know you've got your deputy doing checks behind our backs, Sheriff Longmire. I didn't get this job by being gullible or stupid."

Walt kept his face neutral.

"Do you have any word on where they might be?"

Donovan stared at him for a long moment before he nodded.

"We believe he is headed for Mexico. We've been tracking some possible sightings and we are getting ready to move this operation"

Walt felt himself tense at the prospect of being left behind.

"I'm coming with you."

Donovan frowned.

"That's not for you to say, Sheriff."

Walt squared his shoulders.

"Then you'll have to put me in a cell. Otherwise, I'm coming."

Donovan studied him for a long moment.

"I sincerely hope that if I'm ever in this situation, my superiors are as concerned for my well-being as you are for your deputy."

Walt let the comment slide, instead reiterating his point.

"Like I said, either you lock me up or you take me with you."

Donovan nodded slightly.

"Be ready in twenty minutes. And consider this your only warning, Sheriff. You are not an active participant in this investigation. You are only coming because I'm allowing it. This is an FBI matter and we will handle every aspect of this case the way we see fit. If you can't abide by our rules, you will be removed. Don't doubt that for one second."

Walt didn't respond to the threat and Donovan moved on as a flurry of activity washed over the FBI agents.

xxx

"_I'm surprised you agreed to desk duty."_

_Vic shrugged._

"_It was that or nothing. I'll take what I can get."_

_Walt folded up the piece of paper and passed it back to her. Vic took it and then settled back into the chair opposite his desk, her eyes on him. Walt tapped his fingers on the wooden surface of his desk._

"_Tomorrow okay?"_

_Vic nodded with a satisfied look._

"_Yeah, tomorrow is good."_

_Walt leaned back in his chair and let his hands rest on his stomach, fingers clasped._

"_Vic, it's not because of…"_

_Walt's voice faltered and his eyes shifted to the closed door of his office._

"…_us. I would worry about you, anyway."_

_She could read his face well enough to know he was being honest. Vic also knew that Walt still blamed himself for letting Branch come back so soon after his release from the hospital and for not seeing signs of distress in his fallen deputy. She was well aware of the guilt he carried regarding that, whether it was warranted or not. No doubt, he more than likely blamed himself for leaving her alone at the truck, despite the fact that it was at her own insistence._

_She nodded slowly._

"_Yeah, I know."_

_Vic's eyes held his and Walt's brow raised._

"_Something else?"_

_Vic leaned forward and rested her arms on her knees._

"_Yeah, Walt, this wasn't your fault. You know that, right? It was just…something that happened."_

_His expression was noncommittal to her comment. _

"_Ultimately, what happens to you…and Ferg is my responsibility, Vic."_

_Vic rolled her eyes and shook her head._

"_Actually, that's not true. Sometimes, shit just happens and there's nothing you can do but deal with it and move on as best you can. It could just as easily have been you, Walt. And…they might have killed you right there. Then…where would we be?"_

_He didn't have an answer to her question. But…Vic didn't really expect one. It was just food for thought. And a thought that had crossed her mind more than once during all of this. For a second, Walt looked like he might argue his point. But, the moment passed and the heaviness seemed to lift from him._

_Vic pushed up from the chair and held up the paper in her hand._

"_I'll give this to Ruby on my way out."_

_Walt nodded, planted his palms flat on his desk, and stood up. Slowly, his arms dropped to his side and he came around his desk. Vic tapped the paper absently against her thigh, watching his actions from where she stood near the chair. He stopped a foot or so from her._

"_What are you doing with the rest of your day?"_

_Vic shrugged._

"_Not much. Just some stuff around the RV. I've barely been home, so…"_

_He nodded and she could see his mind working._

"_Do…you…want to have…dinner later?"_

_Vic raised an eyebrow._

"_Are you asking me out or…"_

_It was an honest question. Walt was hard to read and she could sense the awkwardness in his question, like maybe he was unsure himself what exactly he was asking her. She had a hard time believing he was ready to be seen in public with her, with so much still up in the air with the two of them. They were still navigating this new shift in their relationship behind closed doors. Vic doubted they were ready to go public._

_He bit his lip and shook his head._

"_At the cabin. I meant at the cabin. I can…pick something up for us."_

_That made more sense. Vic smiled a little, her own tension easing up._

"_Sure."_

_He smiled like he was relieved at her answer. She made a mental note to stick a change of clothes in her truck._

"_Okay. I'll call you when I leave here."_

_Vic nodded._

"_Sounds good. Let me know if you need me to bring anything."_

_His smile grew slightly._

"_Okay."_

_Vic half waved at him and started for his office door. Something crossed his face, but then vanished in an instant. Vic paused with her hand on the knob._

"_See you later."_

_Walt smiled again._

"_See you."_

xxx

**Thursday 5:32 AM**

Vic's own luck was no better than Rainey's. It was nearly daylight before a car passed by. She saw it coming and carefully got out of the broken down car. Vic limped to the rear of the vehicle and waited, trying to keep her weight off of her injured foot. She waved a hand at the approaching car and felt incredibly thankful when it slowed and came to a stop next to her.

The car pulled up to Vic and idled. The window let down and a young man looked at her like he was seeing things.

"Break down?"

Vic nodded, her eyes taking in the young man's friendly face. He seemed harmless enough.

"Something like that. Can you give me a ride into town? To the police station?"

His expression turned wary at the mention of the police.

"Is something wrong? I've got a cell phone…"

Vic shook her head.

"The ride will be fine."

He relaxed and nodded.

"Sure. Hop in?"

Vic smiled and limped carefully around the car, easing into the passenger seat. The young man watched her, his eyes growing concerned as he took in more of her haggard appearance and obvious pain.

"Are you okay, miss? You look…"

He paused, unsure of how to finish his thought. Vic wished she still had her ID so that she could identify herself. Instead she just pulled on her seat belt and did her best to seem nonchalant. No reason to set off alarm bells and make him uneasy. She just wanted a ride from him.

"Yeah. I'm okay."

The young man looked at her for another few seconds before he seemed to accept her answer and pressed the gas. Vic leaned her elbow on the door and watched as the sun started to creep slowly over the horizon lighting up the land. She looked at the passing road and wondered which way Rainey had gone and where he was now. She had her doubts he would be able to make it very far on foot.

Signs of a town started appearing and Vic felt optimistic for the first time in days. What she really wanted was a shower and a change of clothes. Her own clothes. But, she knew that would take time. She needed to get in touch with Walt and let him know where she was. That was the first thought in her head. The rest would fall into place. Patience wasn't her strong suit, but she would have to exercise some in order to get through this process.

The young man navigated his way through the small town streets and pulled up in front of a low, brick building with an American flag flapping on a pole in the early morning breeze.

"Here you go."

Vic offered him a gratified smile as she pulled the handle and opened the door.

"Thanks."

He nodded and pulled off heading down the road. Vic hobbled inside the police station, her eyes landed on an older woman sitting at a reception desk. The woman looked at Vic suspiciously as she approached. Lacking a mirror, Vic could only assume she must look rough judging by the woman's facial expression.

"May I help you?"

Vic nodded.

"I'm a Sheriff's Deputy from Absaroka County in Wyoming. I uh…need to use a phone."

The woman eyed her.

"Do you have ID?"

Vic shook her head.

"No."

"Are you alright, dear? You look like you're in some trouble. Do you need to speak with an officer?"

It was a fair enough observation. Vic inhaled deeply, trying to keep her patience intact. She exhaled and nodded.

"Yes, please."

The young officer's nametag read Reynolds and Vic could tell immediately that he didn't believe her. He attempted to usher her into a room that would be used for questioning. Vic held up her hand when the young man started to place his hand on her arm. She gave him a sharp look and he drew his hand away.

"Miss…?"

Vic shook her head.

"I already told you. It's Deputy. Deputy Victoria Moretti."

"Yeah, I know…from Wyoming. But, you don't have any ID. I just need to ask you a few questions."

Vic could feel her blood pressure increasing with each second that ticked by.

"I really, really need to use your phone, Officer."

He nodded in a manner that suggested he was humoring her. He again tried to corral her into the small room. But, Vic knew all of these tricks and she had no desire to sit and answer all the mundane questions Reynolds seemed determined to ask her.

"Miss…"

Finally, her control slipped and her temper flared.

"Jesus, I just need to use your damn phone!"

The officer stepped away from her and his face reddened at her raised voice.

"There's no need for you to raise your voice."

Vic nodded, her ears growing hot.

"Yeah, there is. I walked in here and asked to use your phone so that I can prove to you who I am, and so I can get the hell out of…wherever this is."

She motioned around her. Reynolds ducked his head and relented.

"Okay, just…calm down, miss."

It crossed her mind to punch him if he called her miss one more time, but that would only land her in a cell for who knows how long. He motioned for her to follow him.

"You can use the phone at my desk."

Vic tossed him a smile that wasn't genuine and lifted the phone. She glanced at the officer who nodded.

"Dial 1 to get out."

Vic dialed one and then dialed the number to the office, hoping someone was in, despite the early hour. When Ferg answered, she didn't think she would ever be so happy to hear anyone's voice.

"Absaroka Co…"

"Ferg!"

She broke in and he stammered with surprise.

"Vic?"

Vic felt tears well up in her eyes and brushed at them.

"Yeah, Ferg, it's me."

There was a flurry of activity on the other end of the line.

"Where are you? Everyone is looking for you."

"Is Walt there?"

"No, he's looking for you. Along with the FBI."

Vic closed her eyes.

"The FBI?"

"Yeah…last time I talked to Walt, he thought you were somewhere near Colorado."

Vic swallowed.

"I'm in New Mexico."

She glanced at Reynolds and covered the mouthpiece of the phone.

"Where are we exactly?"

"Calex, New Mexico."

Vic frowned, having never heard of it.

"Um…Calex, New Mexico."

"Wow…what are you doing down there?"

Vic shook her head.

"It's a long story. I just…really need to talk to Walt."

Ferg stammered.

"I'm not real sure how to get in touch with him but I'll do my best, Vic. You at the police station there?"

Vic nodded.

"Yeah…for now. I need…to find a hospital or something, though."

"Are you okay?"

Concern flooded his voice.

Vic sniffled and nodded.

"Yeah, I just…my foot is hurt. Just try and find Walt. Okay? And when I hand the phone to this officer, could you please tell him who I am."

"Sure thing, Vic. I'm…glad you're okay. We've all been worried sick."

She smiled, feeling emotion well up inside her again.

"Thanks, Ferg."

She passed the phone to Reynolds and wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her sweatshirt while the young man fumbled his way through the conversation. By the time he hung up, he looked at her apologetically.

"Deputy, I'm sorry. I just…"

Vic waved a hand at him.

"Don't worry about it. I just…is there a hospital nearby?"

He ran his eyes down her and they landed on her feet.

"Where are your shoes?"

xxx

Walt followed the FBI caravan in his Bronco. It seemed like they'd been driving forever. Donovan had given him little information, except that he was to follow along behind them. The agent knew if he had no information then he couldn't go off on his own. Walt was aware of that. Right now, all he wanted was to find Vic. It was Thursday and she had been gone since Monday. The days had eked by at a terrible pace and it was wearing on him.

He used one hand to scrub at his eyes and wished he had a cup of coffee to keep him awake. Sleep hadn't been something he was concerned with and it was starting to catch up to him. Walt saw the FBI vehicle in front of him give a turn signal and he frowned. They already stopped for gas and he was growing tired of setbacks.

Still, with little choice, he followed the vehicle and pulled off onto the side of the road. Walt squinted into the sun. Agent Donovan was walking his way, cell phone in his hands. Walt let his window down.

"What's is it?"

Donovan held out his phone.

"Your Deputy Ferguson is on the phone and he is adamant that he speak with you and only you."

He could read the scowl on Donovan's face. Taking the phone, he cleared his throat.

"Ferg, what's…"

Ferg cut him off.

"Vic called!"

"What? When?"

"About an hour ago. It took me forever to reach that Donovan guy. She's in…"

Ferg paused.

"Calex, New Mexico. She was at the police station there. I'm not sure if she still is. She said her foot was hurt and she needed a doctor so…"

The rest of what Ferg was telling him was lost in the rush of relief that washed over him. Walt clenched his jaw, trying to maintain the composure he knew was needed. He finished with Ferg and then passed the phone off to Donovan with his first smile in days.


	10. Ch 9: Fallout

**Ch. 9: Fallout**

Walt shoved his way through the hospital doors with a pace that caused bystanders to clear his path without question. He paused at the desk and waited impatiently, his blue eyes on a desk clerk who was on the phone. He tapped his hand on the desk, drumming his fingers. The woman hung up the phone and offered him a too nice smile.

"May I help you, sir?"

Walt nodded.

"I'm looking for a patient. Victoria Moretti."

The woman nodded and clacked away on her keyboard. Walt could feel his frustration building with every second that passed and he didn't see Vic. The woman finally looked back up.

"Miss Moretti isn't in a room yet. She's still in the treatment area."

The woman indicated with her hand and Walt pushed off the counter and headed in that direction.

"Sir, you're not supposed to…sir?"

Walt ignored the woman and covered the short distance. He turned a corner and there she was. Just like that. She was sitting on an exam table wearing a hospital gown with a white blanket draped over her legs. He paused for the briefest of moments simply so relieved to be looking at her.

"Vic."

Her name came out almost a whisper, but she heard him.

Her head turned and she met his eyes. She didn't smile at him, but something crossed her face. He approached the bed slowly.

"Hey."

He noticed that he sounded unlike himself.

"Hey."

She sounded weak and shaky. Walt paused again at her side. He genuinely just wanted to hug her. But her vacant, haunted looking eyes kept him at bay. The last thing he wanted to do was spook her or come on too strong and make her more uncomfortable than she already seemed.

"How…how are you?"

She nodded at him.

"I'm…okay."

She didn't seem okay. Not to him. Walt ran his eyes over her, trying to assess her condition. She seemed to be unharmed, more or less. Little information had been passed on to him with the exception that she had an injured foot. He wanted to see that she was okay with his own eyes. To hear it from her own mouth.

"Did…are you hurt?"

Vic started to speak when a stern voice made him jump.

"This isn't really a visiting area."

Walt turned to see a short, balding doctor wearing blue scrubs coming his way. He did his best to look official.

"I know. I'm Sheriff Walt Longmire."

The doctor eyed him.

"Sheriff? Are you here in an official capacity?"

Walt nodded.

"Yes."

Vic broke in, forcing some volume into her voice.

"Let him stay. Please."

The doctor glanced her way and then nodded.

"As long as you stay out of the way, Sheriff."

He turned his attention to Vic.

"How are you feeling?"

She offered the doctor a half smile.

"Better."

He pulled back the blanket to reveal her right foot, which was wrapped completely in white gauze. Walt frowned, trying to deduce the nature of the injury.

"How's the foot?"

She shrugged. Walt could tell she was on painkillers. Her speech sounded a bit slurred. He wondered if that was creating the look in her eyes. The one that rattled him with its detachment. That would make sense.

"Doesn't hurt now."

The doctor gave her a knowing smile.

"That's the meds. We'll be moving you to a room soon."

He glanced at Walt.

"You are…her boss?"

Walt nodded.

"Yep."

He smiled.

"She's lucky. Very lucky. Had a nasty infection from that burn. But, she's on antibiotics now. And something for the pain. Should get her straight in no time."

Walt glanced at Vic, who was shifting around uncomfortably while the doctor talked about her. The doctor turned back to Vic.

"I'll be back in a few minutes to see about getting you into a real bed."

Vic nodded tiredly.

"Thanks."

Walt waited until the doctor was out of hearing distance before he turned to her.

"What happened to your foot?"

Her eyes moved away from his. Walt pressed her, keeping his voice gentle.

"Vic?"

She cleared her throat a little.

"It got burned."

Her voice was low when she said it. Not much above a whisper.

"How?"

She licked her lips. Walt swore he could see her replaying something in her head. Something that ghosted across her face and, then, was gone. Her eyes met his again and she merely shook her head.

"Not now, Walt."

Walt felt something he couldn't describe take root in his stomach. Tentatively, he reached out and placed his hand on her arm. For a second, he thought she was going to pull away. He was relieved when she didn't. He kept his hand light and gave her forearm a gentle squeeze.

"Okay. The uh…FBI is on the way. They're sending a team to the car."

She narrowed her eyes.

"FBI?"

"Yeah, they want to ask you some questions."

Vic closed her eyes.

"Shit."

She pushed the word out on a breath. Walt studied her.

"Do you…want me to run interference? Is something wrong?"

She shook her head.

"No…I just…I'm so tired."

He nodded slowly.

"Maybe we can get the doctor to hold them off, but they won't wait long. They're looking to get this guy."

Her eyes had that vacant look again.

"Right."

Walt steeled himself.

"You want to tell me what happened?"

She shook her head slowly.

"You already know."

"I mean…all of it. That's what the FBI is gonna want, Vic. A full statement."

He could see her jaw flex under the skin.

"Yeah…I know. I just…I'm not sure I'm ready."

Walt moved his hand to cover hers.

"Vic, I don't want to push you. I don't. But…this FBI guy…Donovan…he's not gonna be patient with you. It might easier if you talk about it some before he gets here. Get it straight in your mind."

She inhaled deeply and started to say something when the doctor returned, cutting into the conversation.

"Good news, Deputy. We've got you a room."

xxx

She still seemed empty. A shell of herself. It scared him. It took him back to a dark night that seemed so long ago, but not long enough that is wasn't still painfully fresh. A night her face held a similar look. Another night he was afraid he might lose her. The haunted look on her face was still there. Her hazel eyes, the ones that were always so full of fire, seemed extinguished and flat. Dull even.

"You still haven't told me about your foot."

She bit her lip and looked up at him from the hospital bed.

"He…burned it."

Walt's mouth went dry and his stomach churned with a bitter taste.

"What do you mean? Burned?"

She was quiet for a long stretch. A heavy, unnerving kind of quiet.

"I fought him, kicked him. He…threw my boots in the fire…"

Walt nodded remembering the burned up boots he found in the remains of the fire at the motel. A sense of dread wrapped around his heart and began squeezing as she spoke in a faltering voice. She sounded so…not like the Vic he knew.

"…and then he took a pan…like a…like a frying pan…"

His mind flashed back to the nondescript pan sitting by the fire. He hadn't imagined then what she was telling him now. It had seem so ordinary and non-threatening at the time, laying on the floor of the dark room.

"…and he…held it over the fire."

Walt's heart was thumping harder by the second. A sense of rage was snaking its way into his veins, making him feel like he might ignite at any second. Her eyes looked so distant. He could tell that she was reliving the moment in her head. The careful, fragile control she'd been trying to maintain seemed to be slipping away through her grasp.

She paused again and Walt waited for what he now knew was coming, bracing himself for the actual words. Confirmation.

"Then…he held it to my foot."

When she said it, she lifted her eyes and looked into his. It was a searing connection that left him feeling as though he'd been jolted by electricity. She forced out the last sentence like she was trying to purge herself of the words. Of the experience.

Walt didn't know what to say. A single tear slid down her cheek as her control slipped farther through her fingers. Vic took a deep, unsteady breath and lowered her eyes away from his. Walt spoke in a low voice, his tone bleeding anger and sadness. Regret even.

"Vic."

It was a quiet word. And all he could manage. Vic shook her head and held up her hand.

"Don't. Okay?"

He nodded quietly. Clearing his throat, Walt forced his voice to sound normal and tried to shift back into sheriff mode. He knew Donovan would be in soon. The doctor had told them she was still under the influence of painkillers, but that was wearing off. He knew Donovan would push the matter and be in soon to question her.

"I need to tell you…this Agent Donovan…he's very driven to catch Miller."

She gave him a confused look, trying to regain her composure.

"Okay. Is that supposed to scare me?"

Walt shook his head.

"No, he's just…very aggressive."

Vic tilted her head.

"How did you come to be tied up with the FBI so closely?"

Walt sighed.

"That's a long story for another time."

She closed her eyes.

"Maybe we should just get it over with?"

Walt frowned at her.

"You sure? I mean…"

"No. I'm not sure. But, I really just want to go home. And…if this is what it takes…then let's do it."

Walt considered her for a long moment before he relented. He knew Donovan was waiting outside, chomping at the bit to talk to her. The agent made it clear numerous times he would be there until he was able to speak to Vic. In Walt's opinion, she wasn't in the right frame of mind. But, he also knew she had a point. The sooner she talked to him, the sooner this would all be over.

"I'll get him."

xxx

Vic looked up at Donovan incredulously and with a tinge of anger. The effects of the painkillers had ebbed and she had regained some of her trademark impatience and sarcasm. With Donovan's obnoxious pushing, it was starting to show through.

"You don't believe me?"

The FBI agent kept his demeanor cool and detached.

"That's not what I said, Deputy."

Her eyes held the agents. And they were sharper than Walt could remember ever seeing.

"Exactly what the hell did you mean then?"

He sighed like she was a child wasting his time. It was a move that didn't go unnoticed by Vic. Her perception had Donovan in clear focus.

"I'm just trying to understand how a known criminal with a long history of violence just up and lets you go. Nowhere in his long career has he ever done anything like that. I mean…you can understand where I would be a little confused."

She narrowed her eyes.

"So, you're thinking what? I mean…it's clear you think I'm not telling you the truth. What do you think I'm not saying?"

Donovan scanned over the notes he had taken during her statement.

"He happened upon you clearly by coincidence?"

Vic glanced at Walt.

"Walt can verify that. I was with him. At work. In Wyoming."

Donovan nodded, ignoring her tone.

"And he has. I'm just… having a hard time with all of this, Deputy. Rainey Miller. Just walking away and leaving you to be saved. It sounds like something out of a movie, don't you think?"

Vic tilted her head.

"Jesus, if you've got a point, make it."

Walt stood next to the bed feeling tense. He hadn't liked Donovan's posture from the minute he came into the hospital room. Donovan looked at Vic and then nodded.

"Fine, Deputy. I will just come right out and ask you. Did you have some kind of personal relationship with the suspect?"

Vic stared at him, unable to respond for a long quiet moment. Walt felt a burst of anger shoot through him and stepped closer to the bed, his hands coming to rest on the raised bed rail as he interjected.

"What are you implying?"

Donovan ignored Walt and kept his eyes on Vic, gauging her response. She knew exactly what he was implying and she stared up into the agent's face with her unflinching, angry gaze. Vic's jaw was tight and tense and the expression on her face bordered on dangerous. She finally spoke in a low voice, tight voice.

"Are you asking me if I was fucking him?"

Donovan's face didn't betray anything under her unwavering stare and the intended bluntness of her question.

"Were you?"

Vic huffed, almost in a laugh, but there was no humor anywhere in her.

"Have you seen my foot, Agent Donovan? It's fucking burned. Do you really think I would become involved with someone who did that to me? Is that the kind of sick shit rolling around inside your mind?"

Donovan swallowed. Vic had clearly pierced something.

"I am simply trying to get all the facts straight."

"I told you what happened."

She snapped at him, her face reddening. She opened her mouth to speak further but Walt broke in again.

"That's enough. You're harassing her at this point."

Donovan shifted his eyes to Walt.

"You don't get to say when this is over, Sheriff. That's for me to say. And I'll be done when your Deputy gives me an answer that satisfies me. Have you ever heard of Stockholm Syndrome, Deputy Moretti?"

She rolled her eyes.

"Yes."

"By your own admission, you were with Rainey Miller when he broke into a pharmacy. In order to help you I might add."

Vic held up her wrists. The raw red skin where the handcuffs had been stood out starkly against her otherwise pale skin.

"I was handcuffed you son of a bitch."

Her voice finally broke and Walt placed a hand on Donovan's shoulder.

"That's enough."

His voice was terse.

Donovan moved to push Walt's hand away and Walt grabbed the agent by the lapels of his jacket and shoved him away from Vic's bed.

"I said that is enough."

Donovan jerked free from Walt and smoothed his suit jacket.

"I will have you arrested, Sheriff, if you touch me again."

Walt's eyes burned with an anger he hadn't felt in quite some time. He felt like lit dynamite about to explode.

"Walt."

It was Vic speaking to him now in a calmer, but firm voice. Walt glanced at her and she shook her head.

"Don't give him the satisfaction."

The three of them stood in a tense stare down that was only broken when the door opened and Vic's doctor came bustling in. He looked around the room and shook his head in disapproval.

"Why are there raised voices in here? This is a hospital."

Donovan nodded at the doctor.

"Sorry."

The doctor glanced at Vic, who was sitting forward.

"You should be resting."

She accepted the admonishment with a polite smile and leaned back against the raised bed. The doctor glanced at his watch and then to Donovan.

"You should be going. She needs her rest."

Donovan started to protest but the doctor was not to be swayed.

"This patient needs her rest. She can't do that getting the third degree from you. So…out."

Donovan nodded in concession.

"She's staying overnight?"

The doctor glanced at Vic.

"You'll have to take that up with her."

With that he gave a warning glare and left the room. Donovan turned to Vic.

"When are they releasing you?"

"Supposedly tomorrow."

He nodded, tucking his notepad into his jacket pocket.

"Good. Then we can talk more fully."

Vic shook her head.

"I think I'm about done talking to you."

Donovan flexed his jaw.

"We can hold you, Deputy Moretti, for as long as we need to in order to find Rainey Miller. So far, you haven't given us anything particularly helpful on that front. So…we're done when I say we're done. Now, I can post a man outside if I need to."

Vic rolled her eyes and gestured around the room.

"Where am I gonna go? You think I'm gonna hop out of here on my one good foot?"

Donovan didn't look amused by her sarcasm.

"We'll continue this tomorrow then."

Vic tossed him an unfriendly smile.

"Looking forward to it."

He glanced at Walt and left the room. Vic let out a breath.

"What is his problem?"

Walt walked around the bed and sat down by Vic's feet.

"He's been after Miller for months."

Vic shook her head.

"That's not an excuse to accuse me of helping him."

Walt nodded.

"I know, Vic. But, fighting him isn't going to help. I should've stayed calm. I know better."

She bit her bottom lip.

"Walt, I'm the one who was taken against my will and held for…days. I mean…he fucking burned my foot. And…I'm being treated like some sort of a suspect. Forgive me if I'm fresh out of patience for his brand of bullshit."

Walt reached out a placed a hand on her uninjured foot.

"I know. I didn't meant to excuse him, Vic."

His voice was quiet. Vic sighed.

"I'm sorry. I'm tired. And I'm stuck in here. And I don't want to deal with that jackass anymore."

Walt stood up and moved closer to the head of the bed.

"Do you want me to go so you can sleep?"

Vic looked up at him and held his eyes for a long moment. Then, she slowly shook her head.

"No. I don't."

Her voice was soft now. The anger gone. Walt nodded and lowered himself into the solitary chair in the room.

"Okay, then. I won't."

Vic's eyes stayed on him while he tried to get settled in the less than comfortable chair. Once he fell quiet, Vic let out a sigh and closed her eyes, trying to relax. Walt watched her carefully. Finally, her breathing evened out and her body completely relaxed into sleep. Once he was confident that she was asleep, Walt allowed his own eyes to drift closed. He listened to the steady rhythm of her breathing and the hum of the machines in her room, taking comfort in her presence.

**Friday 8:12 AM**

Vic ate the eggs and toast that were on her plate and sipped juice from a small paper cup. She was clearly hungry. Walt knew the hospital was giving her fluids through an IV due to dehydration. And in the bright sunlight of morning streaming through the windows, she did seem less lethargic and somewhat less distant. However, the fresh light of day also highlighted the way her skin was drawn and exhausted looking around her sharp features. He knew her sleep had been fitful. Her tossing and mumbling had woken him more than once during the night. There were also dark circles under her eyes and her hair badly needed washing.

Walt knew all of that would come with time. The first priority was ensuring that her recovery was paced the way she needed it to be. That meant not pushing her into anything that she seemed hesitant about. In this case, she clearly didn't want to be alone. Walt had slipped out before she woke up to secure himself some coffee and to use the restroom. When he returned, she was awake and he could read the anxiety on her features. She tried to hide it, but Walt knew her well enough to know when something was bothering her.

"Food any good?"

Vic shook her head at his question as she drank the rest of her juice and pushed the tray away.

"Not really. But…it's better than nothing."

The comment struck him and he wondered how much she'd had to eat during her four days with Rainey Miller. It was just another stoke of the flames that burned in his gut with every detail of her treatment that revealed itself to him.

"Once we're back in Durant, I'll buy you anything you want to eat."

The offer earned him a half smile that lacked any real depth. Walt felt a tug in his chest. He sipped is coffee.

"Has the doctor been in?"

Vic shook her head.

"No, just the nurse. When do you think they'll release me?"

Walt shrugged.

"Hard to say. Hospitals are never in a hurry when it comes to paperwork."

She sighed.

"Right."

Walt set his cup of coffee down and pulled the chair closer to the bed, settling in. Vic gave him an uneasy look.

"What?"

"I was just wondering if you thought of anything else that might satisfy Donovan."

Vic frowned.

"I didn't forget any of it. I've told him all that I can. All I ever heard was Mexico. Nothing specific. We weren't BFFs or anything. Jesus."

Walt clasped his hands together.

"Vic, do you have any idea why he just let you go. I mean…you can see where Donovan would find that…odd. Considering."

Hurt flashed across her face.

"You don't believe me either."

Walt could hear the resignation in her voice. He stood up and shook his head.

"I believe you."

"Then why are you asking me this and acting like…like…?"

Her voice broke off. Walt sighed.

"It feels like you're holding back."

Vic shook her head at him.

"I've told him everything that matters, Walt."

Walt nodded.

"Okay."

She inhaled a shaky breath and swallowed.

"I saved his life."

Walt's eyes widened.

"What?"

"Rainey Miller. I…sort of saved his life."

Walt's forehead creased with confusion.

"You didn't tell Donovan that."

"Yeah, cause that'll play nice with his big theory."

Vic looked down at the hospital blanket and picked at the threads.

"He tied me up and left me at the motel. He was visiting his mother. The other guy who was with us then…Ozzie…"

Walt listened to her more detailed version of Oscar Swift's death.

"…he was gonna kill Rainey. Had a knife. I warned Rainey and he killed Ozzie instead."

Walt studied her. Vic's eyes were still on the blanket.

"He stabbed Ozzie with his own knife?"

"Yeah, but I already told you that. He stabbed him and then he shot him in the back of the head."

She looked up and met his eyes. Walt nodded, taking in what she was telling him.

"Why did you warn him?"

"Because Ozzie wanted him to kill me from the start."

It made sense. If Miller wanted her alive as a hostage and Swift wanted her dead, her odds were clearly better with Miller. Her decision made sense in Walt's mind. Still, Donovan's suggestion of Stockholm Syndrome was fresh in his mind.

"Walt?"

Walt's mind snapped back to the present. Vic was watching him closely.

"What is it?"

She was reading him now.

"I was just thinking about something Donovan said."

She eyed him suspiciously, her eyes clouding over.

"Do you really think I had some kind of feelings for him, Walt? That I would…help him after what he did?"

Walt shook his head resolutely. She needed to know he was on her side.

"No, I don't. But, Vic, trauma…"

Vic held up a hand and stopped him midsentence.

"Don't lecture me on trauma, Walt."

She shook her head, clearly annoyed with him.

"I did what I had to do to stay alive. If you don't believe me…that's your problem."

She was trying to force anger, but Walt could detect the true emotion underneath. Pain. Her bottom lip quivered the slightest bit and he could see her eyes watering up again. Walt mentally cursed himself for planting any seed of doubt in her mind.

"Vic…"

She swallowed and wiped her eyes.

"Walt, if I can't convince you…the FBI…"

Walt waved her off and sat on the bed next to her.

"I believe you, Vic. I do."

She took in a shaky breath and nodded.

"Thank you."

Walt smiled.

"You're welcome."

xxx

**Friday 1:42 PM**

True to Walt's prediction, the hospital was in no hurry to get her discharge papers in order. Walt was also not in a hurry for her release. He knew once she was free from the hospital and out from under the doctor's watchful eye, Donovan would come down fully on pressing her for more information. Walt knew that Vic put up a good front. But, he had also gotten a glimpse of what was underneath the tough facade.

It was after lunch before she was brought her release forms to sign. Walt had been given the bag with her clothes in it. Now, she sat on the bed eying the clear plastic bag.

"That's all the clothes I have?"

Walt nodded, wishing he had thought to get her something to wear.

She slowly reached out and took the bag, pulling the items out one at a time. She paused when her hands retrieved the gray sweatshirt. She kept her eyes on the shirt when she spoke in a quiet tone to him.

"They took my uniform shirt and made me change. Not sure what they did with it."

He stood and listened without offering anything in return. After a hesitation, Vic stood up and met his eyes. Walt nodded, understanding that she was ready to change her clothes.

"I'll wait outside."

Vic waited until the door clicked shut behind him. She shed the flimsy hospital gown and tugged on her jeans. They were the same pants she had been wearing since dressing for work on Monday morning. Now, they were streaked with dirt. She pulled her tank top over her head and didn't bother to tuck it in like she normally did. The dirty wool socks were pulled over her feet. Finally, with little choice, the gray sweatshirt was pulled on. Vic made a mental vow to throw it in the trash as soon as she had something else to wear.

She pulled the door open to see Walt leaning on the wall. His eyes ran over her all the way down to her feet.

"You don't have any shoes."

Vic shook her head.

"No."

Walt nodded.

"I'll pull the Bronco around so you don't have to walk through the parking lot."

"Thanks."

Vic stuffed her hands into the pockets of her sweatshirt and trailed Walt to the exit of the hospital. As soon as they cleared the automatic doors, a dark colored car pulled up and Donovan's face appeared in the window.

"Need a ride, Deputy?"

Vic glanced at Walt.

"No."

Donovan opened the door and got out in a smooth motion.

"You're still needed for questioning."

Vic sighed.

"Where?"

"Local police station. I can drive you over."

Walt shook his head.

"I'll drive her."

Donovan nodded.

"Suit yourself. Follow me."

The ride was short and traffic was light. Vic limped into the station behind Donovan and with Walt at her side, his hand hovering close to her elbow. Donovan led her to a conference room and gestured inside.

"Sheriff, you can wait outside."

Walt opened his mouth to protest but Vic cut him off.

"It's okay, Walt."

He met her eyes and then nodded slowly, his unhappiness registering on his face.

"Fine. I'll be right out here if you need me."

Vic eased herself into a chair and propped her elbows up on a cold metal table. Donovan hovered on the far side of the table.

"Do you want anything to drink?"

Vic shook her head.

"No. Let's just get this over with."

He pushed the door closed.

"Alright."

Donovan took the seat opposite her and leaned back.

"I need you to start at the beginning and tell me everything."

Vic folded her arms across her chest.

"I gave you a full statement yesterday. I'm not doing it again."

"I can keep you here as long as I need to, Deputy. It's in your best interest to cooperate."

"I am cooperating. You're being difficult"

He tapped his own chest.

"I'm being difficult? You're refusing to answer my questions."

Vic shook her head.

"I haven't refused anything. I gave you a statement yesterday. Just because you don't like it doesn't mean I have to start over. I'm not sure who you think you're dealing with, Agent Donovan, but I know my rights. And just because you're FBI, that doesn't mean you can do whatever the hell you want to do. You are bound by the law just like every other law enforcement agency."

Donovan smiled a little.

"Is the civics lesson over?"

Vic exhaled.

"What is it you want from me?"

"The truth."

"I told you the truth. You didn't like it."

"Where is Rainey Miller headed?"

"Mexico is what he said."

Donovan was watching her carefully, no doubt looking for any signs that she wasn't being truthful.

"We've alerted border patrol and, so far, there's been no sign of him."

"I highly doubt he planned to cross in front of border patrol agents."

"So, where did he plan to cross?"

Vic's jaw was stubbornly set.

"I don't know."

"What was the last thing he said to you?"

Vic shifted in her chair.

"He told me he was letting me go. He had to walk and I couldn't…because of my foot."

"So he just…walked off into the sunset."

"It was morning."

Donovan tilted his head.

"I feel like you're not taking this seriously."

Vic shrugged.

"I feel like you're a pain in my ass so…"

Donovan leaned forward.

"We haven't found a trace of Rainey Miller. No sightings or anything. Do you know what that means?"

"Um…that he's smarter than you?"

Donovan wasn't amused.

"It means he's likely hunkered down. Still in the area."

Vic tilted her head.

"Why are you so convinced that I'm not telling you the truth? I mean…besides the obvious. Surely, you've looked at my record."

"I have. Turning on bad cops. Impressive."

"And you're still implying that I'm a bad cop."

Donovan shook his head.

"I'm not implying anything. I'm merely trying to get the truth."

Vic sighed, tired of the word.

"The truth. I don't think you're actually interested in the truth. I think you only care about your version of it. And how it can benefit you."

"Why are you protecting this man?"

"I'm not."

Donovan stood up and paced the length of the table.

"So…they grabbed you from Wyoming and headed to Nebraska because Rainey Miller wanted to see his dying mother?"

Vic nodded.

"That's right."

Donovan paused and turned.

"You never tried to make a run for it?"

"I was handcuffed and my legs were tied. I'm not Houdini."

Vic studied him.

"Tell me something, Agent Donovan. Is it true that Walt knew where I was being held and you not only ignored him, but waited quite some time before checking it out? If you had done what he told you to do, you would have Rainey Miller."

Donovan shook his head, not appreciating the tables turning on him.

"We had no good information at the time. We were exercising caution."

Vic leaned in.

"Your caution could've gotten me killed. It almost did."

Donovan gave her a cool look.

"And yet here you are. Okay and intact. Mostly."

Vic bowed her head and then stood up slowly.

"You are a self-righteous prick."

"Sit down, Deputy."

Vic shook her head.

"I'm done with this shit."

Donovan took two steps toward her.

"We're done when I say we're done."

Vic moved towards the door.

"Trust me. We're done."

As her hand reached for the knob, Donovan's hand closed over her wrist and pulled it back. Vic attempted to pull herself free, but his grip was tight and unrelenting. She turned on him, struggling to keep her balance.

"Take your God damn hands off me

She jerked her arm again and he let go. Donovan held his hands up.

"I apologize, Deputy."

Vic placed her hand on the knob.

"You think you're in the right here because of your badge. But, you're no better than the criminals you chase. Maybe…you're even worse...because you think everything you do is legal."

Donovan took a step in her direction.

"Deputy."

Vic turned the knob.

"Don't touch me. Don't ever touch me. Or Rainey Miller will be the least of your worries."

Pulling the door open, she stepped out. Walt rose from where he was seated in the hallway. Donovan trailed her.

"Are you threatening me?"

"No…I'm leaving."

Walt stepped up next to her.

"I would say that's enough for now, Agent."

Donovan nodded to Walt.

"Fine. My people will arrange a hotel for you until this is resolved."

Walt shook his head.

"We need to get back to Durant."

Donovan shrugged.

"Well, for now, she's a witness in an important case and we need her here."

With that he reentered the conference room and slammed the door.

**Friday 4:48 PM**

"This is bullshit."

Vic flopped onto one of the double beds in her room. Walt dropped the room card on the dresser and placed his hands on his hips.

"Vic."

She shook her head.

"Don't. Just don't."

"Did you really threaten Donovan?"

Vic sighed and looked up at him.

"Maybe. But…I didn't punch him. That's gotta count for something."

Walt dropped his hands and lowered himself down beside her on the bed.

"Maybe being here's not the worst thing, Vic. You can get some rest. Recover."

"I could do that at home."

"I know…but right now we can't go home."

Vic looked down.

"Vic, what's wrong?"

She just shook her head.

"You wouldn't understand."

"Try me."

His words were softer now.

Vic inhaled and exhaled once deeply.

"I've been…I mean…all week I was stuck. You know. And it's not over. This is…just another form of it."

She stood up and walked over to the window.

"It's not the same, Vic."

She crossed her arms and pulled into herself.

"That's easy for you say."

Walt stood up slowly and crossed the few steps to where she stood. He lightly touched her shoulder.

"Vic…"

She pulled her shoulder free from his touch.

"I need a shower."

She started for the bathroom and stopped.

"Walt?"

"Yeah?"

She turned, facing him.

"I know that Donovan got you a room…but could you…for now…stay?"

Her simple question pierced something inside of him and he nodded slowly. She nodded her head in thanks and then went into the bathroom, pulling the door closed behind her.

Walt let out a sigh and sat back down on the bed. He heard the shower turn on. Laying back, he closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of Vic in the bathroom moving around and stepping into the shower. There was something comforting in sharing space with someone. The simple, mundane noise of everyday life.

By the time the water turned off, Walt was nearly asleep. The sound of the bathroom door opening brought him back to reality. He heard her pause halfway across the room.

"Walt?"

She said it quietly like she thought he might be asleep. He sat up.

"I'm awake."

Vic held up a package of gauze.

"Can you help me?"

Walt nodded.

"Sure."

Vic sat next to him on the bed. The smell of her wafted across the small space to him. She smelled clean. She smelled good. He felt like his senses were humming in her presence. Walt noticed she had dressed in her jeans and tank top, leaving off the too big sweatshirt.

Walt carefully wrapped her foot, his big hands as gentle as he knew how to be. Vic watched his actions with her chin rested on her hand. Once her foot was taken care of, his eyes drifted to her bare arms. They were mottled with bruises. Walt reached out and brushed his fingers over the skin.

"What happened here?"

She shrugged.

"He wasn't exactly gentle."

His fingertips lingered on her skin.

"I'm sorry that I left you at the truck, Vic."

Vic shook her head and moved her hand to cover his.

"This…wasn't your fault."

Walt felt suffocated. Everything he had been holding at bay during her disappearance was pushing its way to the surface. The fear and the feelings. The anger and the self-blame. He leaned in closer so that he could almost feel the warmth of her breath, his hand still on her arm. Her skin was hot under his touch. There had been moments over the past few days when he doubted he would ever see her again. How much would have been left unsaid.

And, now, here she was. Safely with him.

Without thinking, Walt gave her arm a tug and pulled her to him. Vic thought he was moving to hug her. But, he dipped his face at the last minute and pressed his mouth firmly against hers. For an excruciating moment, she didn't respond. Walt pulled away and rested his forehead against hers. He wanted to say something, but words eluded him in the moment. His hand moved up to the side of her face and tilted her head back. Walt kissed her again, this time with more pressure. Vic's right hand moved to his side and he felt her fingers curl into his side as she returned the kiss. She exhaled against his mouth and Walt could've sworn he heard and felt a very low moan that seemed to reverberate down his entire spine.

Slowly he began to move. And Vic began to move in tandem. As he moved over her, she slowly laid back on the bed. Walt deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against hers. Her hands moved to his back and her fingers flexed hard into the soft material of his shirt. Whatever part of him that would've protested his actions, or should've protested his actions had gone completely silent.

Walt shifted his mouth from hers and buried it in her neck. He felt Vic squirm underneath him, her hands sliding up into his hair.

"Walt."

He heard the whispered word, breathless really. Her tone was cocktail of desire, trepidation, and something he couldn't name. Vic's legs separated and her knees drew up to cradle him. Walt pressed himself fully against her, rapidly spiraling into the want that spread through him like a forest fire spreading across dry grass. Her thighs tightened around him, holding him in place. His mind began to spin out as his need for her became stronger. The thought of having nearly lost her overwhelmed him and pushed any doubts from his mind.

He pulled at the hem of her shirt and she moved so that he could pull it over her head. The actions were repeated as his shirt was gone and then jeans and anything else that proved to be a barrier between them.

Vic could feel her own head spinning and her heart beating at an ever quickening, thunderous pace. She felt deafened by it, but also like she was experiencing everything at a heightened level. It was both frightening and exhilarating. She pulled him to her as tightly as she could and pressed her face into his skin. For the first time since the whole mess began, she felt almost like herself. It was like he was offering her the one thing that she wanted the most.

Escape.


	11. Ch 10: Where You Can Always Find Me

**Ch. 10: Where You Can Always Find Me**

**Saturday 4:14 AM**

Vic felt warm all over. The kind of warm that made movement seem impossible. Still, she turned her head slightly to the side. Her eyes felt heavy, as did the rest of her. She brought one hand up to her face and rubbed at her eyes. She tried to move the other arm, but it wouldn't come. Forcing her eyes open, she could see why.

It was underneath Walt.

The previous night felt surreal. Like a dream that was hazy around the edges but she could remember all the same. He was on his side facing her, still under the firm grasp of sleep. That would explain the warmth. His skin lay up against hers, melding their body heat together. She didn't want to wake him. Didn't want to move at all really. It was the first moment where she felt any peace at all. When she woke up, her first thought was of Walt. Not of Rainey Miller. Not the FBI. Not her burned foot. All of the bad had taken a backseat to the good and that was a welcome change in Vic's mind.

Just Walt.

Moving would end all of that. He would wake up. And the moment would pass her by. She could hear his apologies now. See the look of regret on his face as he grasped for some explanation as to why he had allowed this to happen. She wasn't sure she could bear to hear him tell her that they shouldn't have done this. As far as she was concerned, it was inevitable. This road they'd been on, no matter how rocky or twisted, was always headed to this very place one way or the other. All they had needed was the right catalyst.

Last night had provided just that. She had been more than a little surprised when he kissed her. She kept expecting him to stop. To pull away and mumble some incoherent apology and hurry to his own room next door.

Despite her desire to stay right in the moment, nature called. Vic slowly started to slide her arm out from under him. Walt's face twitched and he readjusted his position, but he stayed asleep. Vic eased herself out of the bed and walked to the bathroom as quietly as possible. After using the bathroom and washing her hands, she looked at herself in the mirror. She looked like a ghost of herself. Shaking her head at the image, Vic flipped off the light and returned to the bed.

She tried getting back into the bed without rousing Walt, but that was too much to hope for. The bed dipped under her weight and his eyes fluttered open slowly. Vic waited to see if he would wake up fully. His eyes moved around the room and then landed on her. Gingerly, Vic worked her way back up against him, trying to hold on to whatever peace lay there. Walt stretched his arm across her and settled back down, his body relaxing into hers as he sank back into sleep. Vic let out a sigh of relief and allowed her own eyes to drift back closed.

Savoring the moment.

xxx

"_Does it bother you that I wanted to have dinner here?"_

_Sometimes, it was like he could read her mind._

"_No."_

_Walt pressed his chin against her bare shoulder._

"_Really?"_

_Vic turned on the bed so that she could see him instead of lying with her back pressed into his stomach the way she had been doing for some time._

"_Really. Walt, everything is so fucked up right now. But this…"_

_She gestured between the two of them._

"…_makes me feel…good. I don't care who knows or doesn't. Not right now. I get so tired of worrying about other people's expectations or opinions. I just really don't give a shit about all that right now."_

_He reached out and traced his finger down the skin over her sternum and then back up to her neck. He leaned down and replaced his finger with his lips. Vic inhaled sharply at the contact and wriggled up against him._

"_That's the kind of move that'll get you in trouble."_

_He smiled a soft smile. One she'd never seen up until the past few days. It was an intimate smile, the kind reserved for private moments between the two of them. What crossed his face when he smiled that way looked so tender that it made her feel dizzy. No one had ever looked at her that way before. That was for sure. On some level, that scared the hell out of her.._

_He pulled back and propped his head up on his hand, his blue eyes on her. Was it completely ridiculous to say she could get lost in his eyes? Too clichéd?_

"_You should be getting some rest. Since you're going back to work tomorrow."_

_That earned him an eye roll._

"_That your way of telling me you want me to go home?"_

_She was teasing him. It was such a Vic thing for her to do that it nearly made his throat close up. Those glimpses of her old self made him feel like she might actually pull through all of this without too many lasting effects._

"_No."_

_Vic slowly slid over him, pressing on his chest until he was flat on his back and she was hovering over him._

"_Good."_

_Walt's hands landed on her hips as Vic lowered herself and covered him like a human blanket. She kissed him deeply and then let her forehead come to rest on his._

_She seemed on the verge of saying something when her phone buzzed on the nightstand next to them. Vic frowned and pushed herself off Walt. _

"_Shit."_

_She looked at the screen of her phone and shook her head, indicating she didn't recognize the number._

"_Hello?"_

_In the next instant, Walt could literally see the shift in her mood. Her hazel eyes clouded over and she stiffened next to him on the bed. _

"_What? You're serious?"_

_Her tone had also changed. It was sharp. Vic kept her head bowed, her hair falling across the sides of her face and nearly obscuring her expression. She was quiet for a long minute and then spoke again._

"_I'll have to get back to you."_

_Walt watched her curiously. Vic ended the call and laid the phone back down. She looked at him with an expression he couldn't quite describe._

_She was quiet for another long pause and then finally let her eyes focus on his._

"_He wants to see me."_

xxx

**Saturday 6:34 AM**

The next time she woke up, he was still there. She could feel him beside her on the bed. Vic rolled onto her back and opened her eyes slowly. She yawned and looked around, her eyes falling directly onto Walt's. He was lying on his side, with his head resting on his bent arm, watching her. Their eyes connected and held. Whatever he was thinking, she couldn't read it on his face. She stretched a little and felt her leg brush against his with the movement.

"Hey."

It sounded lame, but she couldn't think of anything else to say. All the times she imagined the two of them actually having sex, the morning after never really crossed her mind. The reality of the act hung heavy over them. There was no going back from here, only forward into something unknown. Yes, she wanted it. Had wanted it for longer than she cared to admit, even to herself. But, she had no idea how Walt felt. Or what he thought about the turn of events. There was a nagging fear in the back of her mind that maybe he had done it because he felt bad. She wasn't quite sure how she would handle that after so much seemed to have passed between them. She was willing to accept his comfort and his awkward attempts to console her. But she couldn't stomach the thought that he would take her to bed out of pity.

He lifted his head slightly.

"Hey."

Vic rubbed her hand over her face. Walt continued to watch her in that unsettling way that only he was capable of. Like he was seeing every part of her. Even what she carefully tried to keep hidden. She finally pushed herself up to a sitting position. Walt lifted his head and shifted away from her.

"How're you feeling?"

She tilted her head, wondering in what way he meant.

"Fine."

Walt sat up, the sheet falling away from his chest.

"Vic…"

She held up her hand cutting him off and brushed her hair back out of her face.

"Walt, if you tell me that you're sorry…I swear to God I will punch you."

He looked stunned for a minute and then he looked on the verge of laughing at her comment. She frowned.

"So…you were saying?"

Now, he seemed at a slight loss for words.

"Uh…"

Vic rolled her eyes, feeling frustration and hurt well up inside of her.

"Jesus."

Sitting up on the side of the bed, she started to sift around for her clothes. She felt the bed move with him as he scooted across the small space to her back. His hand landed on the bare skin just below her neck.

"Vic, stop."

She ceased her movement, but kept her back to him, not wanting him to see the heat on her face as tears threatened to well up in her eyes.

"What?"

This time, there was no hesitation.

"I'm not sorry."

His voice sounded tentative. Like he was testing the waters of actually talking to her without saying the wrong thing and upsetting her.

"Okay."

She could hear the 'but' coming like he was yelling it.

"But…I feel like I might've taken advantage."

Vic twisted around.

"How so?"

"Because of what you've just been through."

Vic's forehead creased in confusion.

"What does one have to do with the other?"

She heard him sigh.

"Everything."

She finally forced her eyes to meet his again.

"So this wouldn't have happened if that hadn't happened. Is that what you're saying?"

She knew she was talking in riddles, but it would serve him right. He wasn't communicating any better. She could see him searching for words. There was no easy answer to that question. They had been skating around this very thing for some time. His brief attempt at something with Donna had done little to change his feelings for Vic. As a matter of fact, it had done nothing. That's what had that so called relationship teetering on the brink of nothingness. He had been fooling himself all this time into believing he could force Vic from his mind. From his heart. The opposite was proving true and her hold over him only grew stronger.

"I don't know."

He finally just went ahead and said it. Vic stared at him for a long moment.

The room phone ringing startled them both. Two full rings passed before Vic reached over and snatched the phone from its cradle. Behind her, she could feel the bed move as Walt planted his feet on the floor and made his way to the bathroom.

xxx

"_Are you going?"_

_Vic stirred her coffee slowly and deliberately, her eyes on the caramel colored liquid. He could see the wheels turning in her mind._

"_I don't know."_

_Walt took a sip of his own coffee and watched her._

"_Vic, don't feel like you have to."_

_She dropped her spoon into the sink with a clatter._

"_I don't feel like I have to do anything. I wonder if I want to, though."_

_Walt watched her carefully. She was dressed for work. Her foot was still wrapped inside her boot and she was still favoring that foot. It was the only real sign that anything had happened to her. Her clothes covered all the other physical marks. Her attitude covered everything else._

"_I still can't believe Donovan called you."_

_That pulled a smile to her face, lightening her mood a bit._

"_Right?"_

_There was still no love lost between Vic and the federal agent. In a head to head battle, Walt would always put his money on Vic. Every time._

_He glanced at his watch._

"_I'm heading out."_

_Vic nodded and offered him a smile._

"_I will see you later, then"_

_He rinsed his coffee cup and set it in the sink. _

"_Don't overdo it today."_

_She made a face._

"_How can I overdo it sitting at my desk?"_

_He gave her a knowing look._

"_You know what I mean. It's your first day back. Don't tire yourself out. If it's too much, step away. Take a break. You've earned it."_

_She shook her head, disregarding his concerns._

"_You act like I've been gone for a year. It's been… a week."_

_He could sense her deflection. He considered pushing his point more, but knew it would fall on deaf ears in the moment. His keys jingled as he grabbed them and placed his hat on his head, casting a final look her way._

"_I'll see you at the office."_

xxx

**Saturday 8:11 AM**

Walt pulled open the hotel room door and Donovan walked in, his eyes immediately scanning the room. Walt wasn't sure what the man called himself looking for. Unless they had been watching the room closely, they wouldn't have known that his own room went unused. None of that was any of Donovan's business anyway. That was between him and Vic. The last thing they needed was outside intrusion.

"I trust your accommodations are satisfactory."

Walt nodded, looking around the room.

"Fine."

Donovan's eyes shifted to Vic.

"Are you ready to go?"

She was leaned on the wall, her arms folded across her chest. Her posture was already defensive and they hadn't even gotten started yet.

"No."

Vic's words were terse and definitive. Donovan ran his eyes over her, seemingly ignoring her answer.

"You might want your jacket. Cool out."

Her facial expression didn't change. Nor did her rebellious tone. Walt was torn between being happy to see signs that she was more herself and concern that Donovan would attempt to force her to go with him.

"I don't have a jacket. I have a shitty sweatshirt I was forced to wear. I also don't have any shoes, in case you care."

Again her tone was tight. Donovan glanced at Walt and then back to Vic.

"Deputy, we still have questions."

She shrugged at his attempt to placate her.

"I'm done."

Donovan shook his head slowly.

"You can't just declare that you're done in a federal investigation."

Walt could see the stubborn set of her shoulders, her jaw. He knew Vic wasn't backing down. He knew that posture well. He had been on the receiving end of it more than once. She was digging her heels in.

"She needs shoes."

Both Donovan and Vic looked his way when he spoke, like they'd forgotten he was even standing there. Donovan looked back at Vic, his eyes drifting down to her feet. Walt had offered him a chance and wondered if he would take it.

"I will send someone to get you some shoes."

Again his tone was obviously forced.

"That's nice of you."

Donovan sighed.

"Deputy…"

Vic shook her head, what little tolerance she had eroding quickly.

"I really, really hate the way you say that word when you're talking to me. I don't have any more answers for you. I'm not sittin in a room waiting until you decide I'm telling the truth."

Donovan stood staring at her. It was obvious the man was accustomed to getting his way. He seemed on the verge of saying something when the phone in his jacket pocket chirped. He inhaled and pulled it out, turning his back to them. They stood while he spoke in a low voice. Finally, he tucked his phone away and faced them, his expression different.

"Well, it would seem that local police think they have our suspect cornered."

Walt stepped closer.

"Miller."

Donovan nodded.

"Yes. So…sit tight and we will try and end this once and for all."

Without waiting for a reply, he left them alone. Vic continued to stare at the door after it closed behind him. Walt watched her. Her posture relaxed a bit, some of the defiance leaving her.

"Vic?"

She shook her head, like she was trying to refocus her thoughts after the sudden change of pace.

"They're gonna have to kill him."

Walt frowned at her comment.

"Why do you say that?"

She shrugged and move to sit on the bed.

"He told me, more than once, that he would rather die than go back to prison. I…"

Her voice faltered a bit. Walt sat next to her.

"You…what?"

She breathed in like she was trying to settle her nerves.

"I tried to talk him into giving himself up. But he was…pretty adamant that wasn't happening. He doesn't plan to go quietly."

Walt placed a hand on her leg.

"That's his choice, I guess."

She turned towards him, her expression shifting yet again.

"Walt, about last night…you didn't do anything wrong."

His eyes met hers. She was back on their original, interrupted conversation.

"Vic…"

She just shook off his attempt to explain his point of view.

"No, I mean it. You said earlier that it felt like you took advantage. But…that's not true at all. Don't hide behind it because it's easier than facing the truth."

He took in her words.

"What truth is that?"

She smiled a little, the edges of her mouth turning up.

"That you wanted it. Plain and simple."

She paused before she spoke up again.

"I wanted it, too. And…I'm not sorry that it happened."

He nodded slowly, letting the weight of her words settle in his mind.

"I'm…not sorry either. I just…this probably isn't a great idea right now. You're…"

She rolled her eyes and leaned into his personal space with an amused huff.

"I'm what? Vulnerable? Over wrought? Emotional? That's all bullshit excuses and you know it. What it really boils down to, Walt, is that we both wanted it to happen."

With every syllable, she drew closer to him until her breath ghosted across his face in warm strokes. Her eyes roamed restlessly over his face. Lifting her hand, she brought it to his cheek and let her thumb graze lightly over the stubble.

"Vic, Dononvan…"

He made a weak attempt to shift her focus. They had no idea when the FBI would be back.

She exhaled warm breath across his face.

"I don't want to talk about him."

With that she leaned forward and kissed him. Walt responded, despite anything his brain might've told him and pulled her closer. She smiled against his mouth and let her fingers work their way into the hair that touched his shirt collar. Pressing her forehead to his, she met his eyes with an unrelenting look and held him there.

"I still want you."

xxx

"_Don't let him pull you back in?"_

_Vic eyed him curiously._

"_What's that supposed to mean?"_

_Walt stood up and came around his desk. He didn't like the way it separated them in the moment. He wanted her to know he was here for her on this. Completely behind her in whatever choice she made._

"_You know what I mean. You just came back to work. Your foot is healing. You…are healing. Don't let this set you back."_

_Vic frowned like his words made little sense to her._

"_How could it set me back? It should…help me put it behind me. Move forward."_

_He tilted his head._

"_You want closure…I get that."_

_Vic shook her head and interrupted him._

"_You and I both know there's no such thing as closure, Walt. Seeing him isn't going to magically resolve anything. But…it will give me a chance to say what I need to say. To take back the power that he took from me. Don't you think I deserve that?"_

_It was a hard point to argue with._

"_Of course."_

"_Then why can't you see that I need to do this?"_

_He knew work wasn't the place, but they were having a quiet day and he'd needed to speak his mind on the subject. But, now, hearing her side of why she wanted to do this…he could understand her thought process. He did see why she would feel the way she felt. He nodded his head, wanting her to feel support from him. If nothing else, she needed to know that he had her back._

"_I do see it, Vic. I do. I just…I worry about you. I can't help that."_

_His voice was soft, taking on a more intimate note. Vic stood up from her seat and stepped close to him, not touching, but close. Reaching out, she fingered the collar of his shirt gently. _

"_I know. And I appreciate it. Don't think that I don't."_

_He nodded slowly. Her hand fell away and landed back at her side. She lowered her face and looked down, dropping her own voice even more. She could hear his breathing, steady and even. The same rhythm that helped her fall asleep even when her mind was inundating her with things she didn't want to think about._

"_Would you do something for me?"_

_As soon as she said it, Vic lifted her eyes to his. Walt nodded slowly, more than a little certain there wasn't much he wouldn't do for her._

"_What?"_

_She licked her lips before she spoke again. The gold and green of her eyes pulling him in._

"_Come with me."_

_It wasn't a request she needed to make. He would've gone whether she wanted him to or not. No protest could've stopped him. _

"_You know I will."_

_She nodded at his response and then kissed him so softly, he almost thought he imagined it. Taking a step back, the momentary softness left her and she shifted back into business as usual. Walt cleared his throat._

"_Let me know when you set it up with Donovan."_

_She took a deep breath and offered him a smile._

"_I will."_

xxx

**Saturday 12:04 AM**

Walt rolled over and glanced at the glowing red numbers of the cheap looking hotel alarm clock. The early afternoon light was filtering in through the curtains and casting a hazy look throughout the room. His eyes moved over the door. It was locked and latched, but he still felt a bit uneasy. There was no reason to think Miller would come after Vic again, but Walt couldn't help the streak of worry that coursed through him.

He turned his attention to her sleeping figure curled up beside him. She was on her side, facing him, sleeping as peacefully as he had seen since she'd been found. There were still doubts rolling around in his mind. He told her the truth. He wasn't sorry about what happened between them. But, he was concerned. Whether she was willing to admit it or not, she was in a tenuous frame of mind and he didn't want to add any more burdens to what she was currently facing.

Under different circumstances, he would've exercised more caution. But, he was just so relieved to have her back. Thoughts of her consumed his mind ever since her disappearance. So many what ifs had haunted him during those few days she was gone. There was almost something primal in his desire to kiss her. To have her. Having looked into the dark void of a life without her, what he saw terrified him.

She moved beside him and pulled Walt's attention from his thoughts. Vic rolled onto her back and sniffled a little in her sleep. He was quickly discovering that he liked to watch her sleep. There was something open and soft about her then. Things he didn't normally associate with Vic. She moved again and the sheets rustled softly against her skin. She inhaled deeply and her eyes opened slowly. She briefly looked a little confused. Her eyes met his and held them.

A slow smile spread across her face and she stretched her arms up over her head, pulling the sheet dangerously low on her chest. A new, but already familiar heat began to make its way through him. She affected him in ways he hadn't experienced in a long time. She had been right earlier. He did want this. It was that simple. He wanted her. Intensely.

"Hey."

Her voice was soft in a way he rarely heard from Vic.

"Sleep well?"

Her smile grew slightly.

"After that…yeah, I did."

Walt could feel a blush creeping across his face at her comment. And she was right again. Being with her was more than he ever imagined. In more ways than one. She reached up with one of her stretched out arms and brushed her hand over his face.

"You need to shave."

He smiled and caught her hand in his.

"I've been a little busy."

"So, I heard."

She lifted herself up and glanced at the clock.

"It's late."

He nodded.

"Yep. Afternoon."

With a groan, she sat up.

"Hear anything from Donovan?"

Walt shook his head.

"No, it's been quiet."

She sighed and her expression grew serious, the softness from earlier slipping from her features. Walt lifted a hand to her back.

"What's wrong?"

Vic shook her head.

"Nothing."

She planted her bare feet on the floor and stood up, the sheet sliding away. Walt watched with a mixture of curiosity and the urge to pull her back onto the bed. Vic lifted her clothes from the floor and studied them.

"I'm burning these when we get home."

Walt couldn't blame her there.

"I would take you to get something to wear, but Donovan has my keys."

Vic pulled her shirt on and turned to look his way.

"He has your keys?"

Walt nodded.

"Yeah, I think he was afraid I might go after Miller myself. Or that we might just up and leave."

She rolled her eyes and huffed.

"Nothing like being held against your will."

Her tone was dark now. Walt tugged his jeans on and came around the bed.

"It's not the same, Vic."

She kept her face averted from his.

"You...don't understand. I still can't go anywhere or do anything. I don't even have any fucking shoes."

Walt bit his lip.

"We'll get you some shoes."

She shook her head.

"It's not about the shoes. It's about someone else exercising control."

He wasn't sure what to say. There was too much truth in her words. He understood what she was expressing and he could understand her perspective. Vic pulled her jeans up and studied her bandaged foot.

"It's gonna be scarred."

Walt glanced down at the foot and nodded.

"Yeah."

She bit her lip and shook her head. He expected her to say something else about it, but she merely looked up at him.

"I'm hungry."

Walt froze in place for a moment before he smiled.

"Room service?"

xxx

"_Tomorrow?"_

_Vic nodded._

"_Yeah, tomorrow. I want to get this over with."_

_Walt sat on the couch looking up at her. She was still dressed for work. She unzipped her jacket and shrugged out of it, tossing it over the back of Walt's chair. She placed her hands on her hips and watched him._

"_And Donovan agreed to this?"_

"_He's the one who called me. You know that."_

"_I know…I just…wasn't expecting it to be so soon."_

_She shrugged her shoulders._

"_What difference does it make? Today, next week. It's not gonna get any easier."_

_She dropped her hands and walked slowly around to sit down beside him. Her arm brushed up against his. Leaning over, she rested her arms on her legs, her eyes on the floor. _

"_Donovan set it up for four o'clock. So…I guess we'll need to spend the night somewhere and come home the next morning unless you want to drive half the night. Are you sure you can go? I mean…if you need to go to work…"_

_Walt shook his head, his expression resolute._

"_Yeah…I'll go. You shouldn't…do this alone. I wouldn't let you even if you wanted me to."_

_Vic lifted her eyes to his and smiled a little. _

"_Thanks."_

_He smiled in return._

"_You don't have to thank me."_

_Walt held her gaze for a long moment before he leaned back against the couch. Extending his hand, he placed his palm on her back._

"_Have you eaten?"_

_Vic shook her head._

"_No…I'm not hungry."_

_Walt's eyes were on her._

"_Are you sure? I can make you something if you want."_

_Another shake of her head._

"_I can't eat right now. I just…wanted to let you know. We'll need to leave kind of early."_

_Walt ran his hands over his jeans._

"_Are you staying? We could leave from here?"_

_He knew the answer before she ever spoke._

"_I need to pack."_

_There was something distant in her again. He almost pushed but decided against it. Whatever was weighing on her, she didn't seem ready to share it. It was the mood swings he'd seen in her ever since she had been found. Even back at the hospital and hotel, she would pivot from one frame of mind to another. _

"_Okay. Want me to drive?"_

_She bit her lip and studied him._

"_I'll drive."_

_It was the control thing again. If he drove, he was in control. That was her perception. If Vic drove her own truck, it gave her some semblance of having the power and control she needed under these circumstances. So, he nodded in agreement._

"_Fine with me."_

xxx

**Saturday 2:02 PM**

Donovan came into the room, his face revealing nothing. Vic sat on the bed, her bandaged foot pulled up. Walt stood by the door waiting. Donovan nodded to him and then looked at Vic for a long moment before he spoke.

"We got him."

It was a simple sentence that carried little information.

"So he's dead?"

Donovan narrowed his eyes at her question slightly and shook his head.

"No, he's alive. He was shot in the leg."

He paused like he was waiting for her reaction. Whatever he was looking for, the moment passed and he continued.

"Right now, he's being transported to a hospital under guard for treatment. The injury isn't life threatening."

Vic bit her lip and nodded, her face vague.

"So…we can go?"

She ventured the words carefully. Donovan shook his head.

"We still need to talk to Miller."

Walt stepped forward.

"What does that have to do with us? You have your man. You don't need us anymore."

Donovan turned to Walt.

"That is for me to say. Not you. And…if I'm being completely honest…I'm still not convinced that your deputy wasn't somehow colluding with Miller. At least…to some degree."

Walt felt himself stiffen but it was Vic who spoke.

"Still think I was sleeping with him? For what? My freedom? Would that be illegal even if it were true?"

Donovan returned his attention to her.

"It would be if you helped him escape."

She laughed humorlessly and rolled her eyes.

"How exactly would I have helped him escape? I was sick and injured. If you tried to sell this bullshit to a jury, they would laugh your ass out of court."

"I don't need the attitude, Deputy. I notice your primary concern was whether or not we killed him."

Vic shrugged.

"Maybe I was hoping you did. Ever consider that?"

She carefully placed her foot on the floor and stood up, advancing at him slowly, her eyes trained on him flashing with anger yet again.

"No, because you're too busy spinning this fairy tale that you seem determined to force into reality. Is that why you're keeping us here under lock and key. Stuck. Afraid I was planning to run off and meet him somewhere so that we could run off together into the sunset? God, you have a fucked up mind."

Walt swallowed and moved towards her.

"Vic."

His voice held a warning tone. Donovan ignored him as did Vic. They were too fixated on each other like two animals circling each other searching for weakness and ready to pounce.

"I have just about had it with you and your mouth."

She smiled a dangerous smile.

"Fuck. You."

Donovan stared at her.

"I can already press charges against you, Deputy, for refusing to cooperate in this investigation and quite possibly aiding a fugitive. I can press charges against your boss…"

He pointed to Walt.

"…for interfering with a federal investigation. Not to mention pursuing a fugitive outside of his jurisdiction. Would you like to add anything else to that already impressive repertoire?"

Vic nodded.

"If you don't get out of my face…you can throw in assault. And if you think I've never hit an FBI agent, you would be thinking wrong."

"And you think that's something to brag about?"

She gave a slight shake of her head.

"No…I'm just stating facts."

Walt stepped in and slid his arm across in front of Vic.

"Back off."

The words were murmured almost under his breath. She met his eyes briefly before she nodded and relaxed her posture. Walt dropped his hand from her and turned to Donovan.

"We would appreciate you letting us know when we are free to go. If you do have any further questions, we'll be needing to call an attorney."

Donovan smiled a little at the comment.

"Right. Hopefully, it won't be much longer. Tonight or tomorrow at the absolute latest."

Walt flinched when she said tomorrow, half expecting a reaction from Vic. To his relief, she remained quiet. Walt nodded.

"Thanks for the update."

Donovan's eyes flicked over Vic and then he left the room without a word.

Vic rubbed her eyes.

"I'm sorry. I know…I shouldn't let him get to me. I just…I'm tired."

Walt placed his hand on her shoulder.

"I know."

Without prompting, she stepped into him, resting her head on his chest. Walt let his arms slide around her and pulled her in closer, holding her for a long moment. He could feel her body relaxing against him. One hand moved up to smooth her hair lightly at the back of her head. She slowly lifted her face to meet his.

"Thank you."

He shook his head.

"You don't have…"

She rose up on her toes and kissed him lightly on the mouth.

"Ssshh. Yeah, I do."

Smiling, she kissed him again.

xxx

_The truck rolled along. For the most part, the ride had been quiet. Walt sat in the passenger seat of Vic's truck watching the scenery roll by. It was a change from their customary spots in his Bronco. But, if it was what she needed from him, he was happy to comply. He turned his head slightly and looked at her. On the outside, she seemed pulled together. When she'd pulled up at his cabin to pick him up, she'd slid out of her truck wearing jeans, a light purple button down shirt he'd never seen, boots she didn't wear to work and a tan leather jacket he saw her wear frequently. Now in her truck, she seemed mostly relaxed with her hair in a ponytail and her sunglasses on against the glare of the sun. To the casual observer, she looked perfectly normal._

_But, Walt could see beyond that. Years of practice judging subtle body language along with his more intimate knowledge of Vic and her mannerisms gave him a window into her mind. Her shoulders were tight, as was her back. He could see the slight tension in her jaw and the way her hands gripped the steering wheel tightly. Despite her best intentions, she was waging an internal battle with herself._

"_I'm fine."_

_Her sudden words startled him out of his reverie. If he had been openly staring, he hadn't intended to._

"_I didn't say you weren't."_

_She kept her eyes on the road and the dark lenses of her sunglasses hid their expression from him._

"_I can hear you thinking from over here. And you're watching me."_

_He smiled a little._

"_Sorry."_

_She shrugged._

"_It's okay. I know you're worried that I'm gonna have some kind of breakdown or something. But, I'm not. I'm actually looking forward to getting this over with and moving on. I think…it's what I need."_

_Walt nodded slowly._

"_I hope it is, Vic. I do."_

_She glanced at him before returning her eyes to the road._

"_But?"_

_He looked across the truck at her._

"_But, I can't help but worry. It's not just…seeing him again. It's seeing Donovan again."_

_She smiled._

"_Donovan. Yeah, I've missed that prick."_

_Walt chuckled to himself._

"_I'm sure he's missed you, too."_

_Vic rolled her eyes and drove on. _

_When she pulled up to the federal detention center, she parked and took a breath. She pulled the keys from the ignition and tucked them into her pocket along with her cell phone and her ID. Walt could see her mentally preparing herself. He ventured to speak._

"_Ready?"_

_She swallowed and nodded her head slowly._

"_Yeah. I'm as ready as I'll ever be."_

_She pulled the door open and got out. Walt followed, running his hand over his hatless hair and smoothing it down. He trailed her to the door where they were buzzed in. Vic approached the guard slowly. He glanced up and settled his gaze on her with a professional expression._

"_Can I help you?"_

_Walt stepped in closer to her, not touching her, but letting her feel his physical presence behind her. She nodded at the officer._

"_Yes. Agent Donovan called me and set this up."_

_She paused and swallowed again._

"_I'm here to see Rainey Miller."_


	12. Ch 11: Take These Broken Wings

**Ch. 11: Take These Broken Wings**

The small room they were led to was claustrophobically small. There was one small metal table in the center with a plastic chair on either side that was bolted to the floor. The table was also bolted to the floor. The room was void of anything else. Depressing dark tans and metallic gray were the only real colors in the room and made it feel even smaller than it was. Vic stood by the door, breathing slowly and waiting. She paced a few steps and slid her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. Walt stood near her, watching. He could feel the nervous energy rolling off of her in waves.

After several minutes, the door opened again and Agent Donovan came in. Neither of them had seen him since they left the hotel and headed for home after Miller was apprehended. There had been brief conversations over the phone, but that was all. The federal agent looked as pulled together as ever in a pressed suit that looked like every other suit they had seen him wear during this ordeal. He glanced between the two of them and his eyes finally settled on Walt.

"Sheriff Longmire. I wasn't expecting to see you here."

Walt nodded at him cordially.

"Just here for moral support."

Donovan's eyes stayed on him and he nodded slowly like he was processing the information he was taking in.

"Right. Moral support."

Donovan turned towards Vic with a neutral expression.

"Deputy."

His tone was professional and to the point. She met his eyes.

"Agent Donovan."

Donovan gestured around the room, getting straight down to business.

"Your meeting will take place in here. Miller will be brought in with a guard. He has asked to speak with you privately. Now, normally we don't allow for that. But, there are some ongoing negotiations for a plea deal and he is quite the bargainer. So…if you are comfortable with that request, then we will allow it. If you're not comfortable, say the word, and the guard stays in the room at all times. It's entirely up to you. That said…Miller might rescind his desire to talk to you otherwise. I can't speak for him."

Vic looked around the small room like she was really seeing it for the first time. She inhaled deeply and met Walt's eyes briefly before turning her attention back to Donovan.

"Okay."

Donovan nodded and then continued.

"Sheriff Longmire and I will wait outside with the guard. This room is secure and there is nothing he can use for a weapon. You're not in any danger. I know you were searched upon entry to the building and you also are not armed."

He fell quiet and waited for a response.

"Right."

Donovan nodded seemingly satisfied that she understood everything.

"If at any time, you become uncomfortable, or if you just want to end the meeting…simply knock on the door and the guard will come directly inside."

He gestured at the solitary door in and out of the room.

"Miller will be handcuffed and shackled. Clearly, your safety is our utmost concern."

"Okay. Let's do this, then."

Donovan straightened his posture and looked to Walt.

"If you will have a seat, he will be brought in momentarily. Sheriff."

Vic glanced at Walt and he could see the obvious unease in her face. He offered her a small smile before he followed Donovan out the door. Vic sat down in the chair nearest her and waited. She wiped her hands restlessly over the legs of her jeans. It seemed like an eternity ticked by before she heard the knob turn and the door opened slowly once again.

She could hear him before she saw him, shuffling over the tiled floor. Vic swallowed and steeled herself.

Rainey Miller was led in by a burly uniformed guard. The guard kept his hand on Miller's back guiding him to the empty chair. Just as Donovan told her, his hands were cuffed and his feet were shackled. He took slow, measured steps so as to keep his balance. Vic noted a pronounced limp to one leg, not unlike the she had sported for some time due to her foot. He wore a dark blue jump suit and white slip on shoes. He eased himself into the chair and looked up at the guard. The large man looked to Vic with a questioning expression.

"Thanks."

He nodded to her and left the room, no doubt hovering just outside of it.

Rainey waited until the door was closed before he finally turned his dark eyes to hers. His hair had been buzzed short and he looked like he might've dropped a few pounds. His eyes, however, were as sharp as ever as they took her in. He raised his cuffed hands in a half wave, the metal rattling against the table.

"Hey, Vic."

His tone was friendly like this was a casual meeting of old friends. He wore a natural easy going expression as he leaned forward and placed his hands on the table. It was the same nonchalance that had always left her feeling disturbed in his presence. Vic merely looked across the table at him, unsure of what to say. He offered her a smile.

"You look good. How are you?"

The greeting was painfully mundane and for a second, she was back in the old truck listening to him chatter away as though they were out on a joy ride. Forcing the thoughts from her mind, Vic drummed her fingers on the table, needing some measure of movement to relieve the tension she felt building up in her. She forced her own voice to sound as normal as possible when she finally spoke up.

"I'm…okay."

He nodded, still taking her in with his dark eyes. It left her feeling exposed and unsettled.

"I'm glad to hear it."

Vic felt her hands clench slightly.

"Are you?"

He cocked his head at her as though her words surprised him.

"You doubt my good intentions?"

Vic smiled humorlessly. Despite everything, and his current predicament, he hadn't changed at all. He still possessed the same cocky and easy going attitude that made him seem more like a neighbor and less like a killer.

"You held me hostage for almost a week and threatened to kill me more times than I remember. Forgive me if I'm a little wary of your intentions."

He smiled widely now, his full persona breaking through whatever restrained facade he had been striving for. The tone in her voice held all the sarcasm and skepticism she could no longer hold back.

"There she is. That's the cop I knew. Are you back at work?"

She bobbed her head a little.

"Yeah, on desk duty."

He glanced down under the table at her feet.

"How's the foot?"

It was like an echo in her mind at this point.

"It's getting better. How's the leg?"

She could see that her question nearly made him laugh.

"It hurts. I suppose that was karma biting me in the ass. You look…you look good, Vic."

Vic scrubbed one of her nails over the metal surface of the table absent mindedly.

"You said that already."

He nodded.

"Yeah, guess I did. I just…I've never seen you look so…"

Vic bit her lip and then spoke up.

"Clean? Fed? Not having my own gun shoved in my face? Yeah, it does wonders for a person."

His smile faded a bit. Vic shifted in her seat, moving her hands to her lap and trying to maintain her focus.

"Why did you want to see me?"

He cleared his throat.

"I just…wanted to see that you were okay. There's a lot of states arguing over me, not to mention the feds. No telling where I'll wind up. Probably some federal hole where I'll rot until I die."

Vic tilted her head.

"You care? If I'm okay?"

His expression grew serious. She was sure he could hear the disbelief in her voice.

"I…I let you go."

Vic narrowed her eyes at him. He looked as though he believed that was enough to make up for everything else. There was genuine surprise in him. It startled her in a way she hadn't expected when she came here.

"And you want what? For me to be grateful for that? To thank you for not shooting me like some kind of animal? Do you actually hear yourself when you talk?"

He shook his head.

"No. I don't expect gratitude."

Vic shrugged, her careful control slipping. She felt like she was back in that shitty motel handcuffed and tossed against the wall in the floor like garbage.

"Then what, Rainey? What is it that you want from me? Why…did you ask to see me? Let's cut the bullshit."

He shrugged.

"I don't want anything from you, Vic. And I get that you're pissed. You have every right to be."

She huffed under her breath.

"Pissed?"

Her tone was incredulous as she plowed ahead, feelings bubbling to the surface.

"I'm a little more than pissed. You royally fucked with my head. Do you get that?"

His eyes were steadily on her, taking in her reaction.

"Then why did you come? No one had a gun to your head then."

She shook her head and leaned back in the chair, feeling drained.

"No…that was just you."

She fell quiet and breathed in deeply trying to settle her nerves yet again.

"I don't…know why I came. I…I dunno. Maybe I just wanted you to see that I'm fine. That what you did…"

Vic's voice broke off and she swallowed before continuing.

"Maybe, that's it. Just so you can see that I made it through this. That I am making it. Despite everything. Despite you."

He nodded, his eyes dropping to the table and then lifting back up to meet hers. It was the first crack in his demeanor she had noticed. The same expression he'd worn in the truck just before he walked off and left her. The version of him she had to assume was the most real.

"For what it's worth…which probably isn't much…I'm glad that you're okay."

His tone sounded genuine. It was a tone she'd heard from him before. Vic tried to keep those particular thoughts out of her mind.

"You sound like you mean that."

His slight smile reappeared, less cocky and more sincere.

"I do. It's good that you're… back where you belong. Safe. I hope that you're able to find some peace."

A beat of silence passed between them. He cleared his throat and then his face turned curious. She could feel a question coming before he gave it a voice.

"Tell me something. Why does the FBI somehow think you were involved with me?"

Vic shrugged.

"I don't know. That was some narrative that Donovan dreamed up. So…they asked you that, too?"

He nodded, relaxing with the subject change.

"Yeah. That fucker Donovan…he's a real piece of work. It really drives his type crazy when they can't figure out why you do what you do. And he couldn't…for the life of him…figure out why I just let you go. Drove him nuts. It still is driving him nuts."

He sounded pleased by that fact. Vic picked at the seam of her jeans, averting her eyes.

"Why did you? Let me go?"

Rainey grew serious again and she could see him thinking, his brow furrowed.

"You know…I've given that a lot of thought. I really have. And I honestly don't know. I wish I had a better answer. But, I don't."

He paused some of his seriousness falling away.

"Don't tell the fucker that because I like to mess with his head. The alternative…at that point…was to kill you. I mean…you would've slowed me down with your foot. And I…knew I wasn't gonna kill you. Not then. So, why not just let you go?"

Vic had no way of knowing if he was telling her the truth. But, in that moment she realized something else.

It didn't matter. None of it mattered.

She felt like a weight had been lifted from her and she leaned back, relaxing her posture, her eyes on him. Rainey cocked his head, noticing the shift in her.

"What?"

Vic shook her head slowly.

"I should go."

Rainey nodded as she slowly stood up, her eyes still on him. He watched as she walked towards the door, raising her hand to knock.

"Vic?"

She paused and turned, meeting his eyes again. Waiting.

"How's your Sheriff?"

She felt a small smile pulling at her lips, knowing what it was he was asking her.

"Good. It's all good."

With that, she turned away and rapped on the door. The door swung open and the guard appeared. Vic nodded towards Rainey.

"We're done here."

The guard brushed by her and pulled him from his seat. He started to shuffle by her and stopped, facing her one last time.

"Bye, Vic."

She waited until the sound of his shuffling footsteps faded down the hall before she walked out. Walt and Donovan stood against the wall, waiting. Walt's eyes met hers immediately. She shoved her hands into the pockets of her jacket and ambled over.

Donovan stepped up.

"Deputy, my office is this way."

He gestured down a hallway. Vic gave him a confused look.

"Your office?"

He nodded briskly.

"I would like to discuss the details of your meeting if you don't mind."

Vic shook her head.

"I mind. It was…nothing you need to hear and nothing relevant to your case."

She could see the irritation on his face.

"I would like to decide that."

Vic just gave him another shake of her head.

"Jesus, we're not starting this again. You agreed with Rainey Miller to a private meeting and that's what you're getting."

She shifted her eyes to Walt.

"Ready?"

Walt looked between Donovan and Vic and gave her a nod.

"Sure."

Donovan sighed.

"Suit yourself. Hopefully, this is the last time we have to deal with one another."

Vic tossed him a smile.

"A girl can dream."

With that, she turned and started for the front door, Walt falling into stride beside her. Once they cleared the front door and the guard, she paused on the side walk just at the parking lot. Walt edged in closer to her.

"Are you okay?"

Vic looked around at the cars sitting in the lot and inhaled deeply.

"Let's just get on the road."

She headed for her truck and all Walt could do was follow her.

xxx

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Vic smiled at Walt asking her if she wanted to talk. She never failed to find that humorous regardless of the circumstances. She was driving again, the truck pointed towards Wyoming. Towards home. She gave her head a slight shake.

"No. Not right now."

She could feel him watching her, even though her eyes and her attention were focused on the road that lay out ahead of them.

"Are you okay? Really?"

She glanced at him briefly.

"Yeah. I'm fine. Better than I've been in a while."

Walt nodded.

"You really threw Donovan for a loop refusing to talk to him. I don't think he hears the word no a lot."

She laughed quietly.

"You're right about that. I think…he still thinks there's something he doesn't know. That there was something between us. Me and Rainey, I mean."

Walt looked her way again.

"You don't say his name much."

She was willing to concede that point without comment. She knew she avoided using his name. She figured a psychiatrist would have a field day with her at this point.

"Yeah."

Her one word answer did nothing to satisfy whatever questions were rolling around in his head. Vic sighed and readjusted her grip on the steering wheel.

"You want to stop and eat?"

She shifted the subject to something else. Something safer. Walt nodded.

"Sure. Anything is fine."

Vic scanned the streets.

"We can eat and get a room for tonight. Leave first thing."

"Sounds good."

Vic turned her head and flashed him a quick barely there smile that was gone as fast as it appeared.

xxx

Vic pushed her food around on her plate. Walt watched from his seat across the table, his own plate only half empty. She seemed lost in her own thoughts, only making periodic remarks. She lay her fork down and reached out to trace a condensation trail on her glass. Her eyes lifted and settled on his.

Walt set his own fork down and rested his forearms on the table of the small nearly empty diner they had come across.

"Not hungry?"

She shrugged and looked down at the food.

"I thought I was. But…no appetite. Sorry I'm such crappy company."

He smiled.

"You're not crappy company. You've got a lot on your mind. Do you want to talk about it?"

She sighed and lifted the glass to her mouth, taking a sip of water before lowering it down with a low thump on the table.

"Not right now."

She picked her fork back up and took a couple of bites. Walt resumed eating his own food, looking at her every few minutes. Vic finally gave up and pushed her plate away.

"I'm done."

Walt nodded.

"You ready to go?"

She looked at his plate.

"Are you finished? Don't let me rush you."

He shook his head and pulled his wallet from his back pocket.

"I'm done. It's not the Busy Bee"

Vic smiled.

"No, it's not."

Walt tossed some money on the table and stood up, lifting his hat. Vic rose and pulled her jacket on, walking slowly beside Walt to the door. Just outside, she paused. The air was cooler now and the sky was lit up by countless numbers of stars stretched across the dark expanse. Letting her head fall back, she looked up at the sky for a long moment.

Walt stood in silence, letting her marinate in whatever thoughts she was processing. Finally, she yawned and covered her mouth with her hand. She felt Walt's hand on her back.

"Long day, huh?"

Vic smiled and started towards her truck.

"The longest. Saw a hotel just down the street. Looks decent."

He nodded and got into the truck.

"Sounds good. We can get some rest and start fresh in the morning."

It sounded simple enough but Vic wondered if she wasn't out of fresh starts at this point.

xxx

"You've been quiet since dinner."

It was an accurate observation. Walt was stretched out on the bed in the hotel room they had found for the night still fully dressed. Vic came in fresh from the shower running a brush through the long, damp strands of her hair. Walt didn't push her. He knew better. She had skirted any heavy topics in the truck during the ride. He assumed she was merely processing the experience. She would talk to him when she was ready.

She paused at the side of the bed and sat down, mattress dipping slightly. She smelled good. She looked good. And not just in the way she normally did to him. The dark circles under her eyes weren't as noticeable. The raw skin around her wrists was healing up nicely and was barely visible at this point.

She turned her head and met his gaze.

"You haven't asked me what we talked about."

Walt kept his eyes on her.

"You'll tell me when you're ready. If you want to."

She smiled at his answer. Her lack of willingness to share the conversation clearly agitated Donovan. Vic had made it clear that she didn't care. Neither of them had any use for the federal agent. As far as they were concerned, this would be the last time they were forced to deal with him. Hopefully. Walt figured he was still fuming in his office about Vic not cooperating with whatever agenda he had.

After a pause, she spoke.

"Nothing."

Walt gave her a questioning look.

"Nothing?"

"Nothing that seemed real or important."

She was talking in a manner he couldn't decipher.

"Why did he ask to see you?"

Vic shrugged.

"I…don't know. He said he wanted to see that I was okay. But…I don't know that I believe that. Not after everything."

Walt watched her closely.

"What else did he say?"

There. He asked.

"Nothing he hasn't said before."

He could hear the resignation in her voice.

"Did you get the answers you wanted?"

Vic shook her head.

"No. I realized sitting across from him that…he couldn't answer any of my questions. Not really. Only I can do that. Anyway, I was still giving him power by expecting answers from him. I think I realized it while I was sitting there looking at him."

Walt nodded his head slowly in understanding of her words.

"And have you? Answered your own questions?"

Vic set her brush on the table and reclined beside him, turning so that she was facing him.

"I don't want to talk about Rainey Miller anymore. I've spent enough time letting him into my head and my life. It's just…wasted time…and he's not worth it."

Walt considered her.

"So…what do you want to talk about?"

She smiled. Her smile was feral and Walt knew exactly what she wanted. It had nothing to do with talking. She confirmed those thoughts for him as she leaned in a bit closer to him on the bed.

"I don't want to talk at all."

The words came out barely above a whisper and her breath wafted across his face, smelling of the minty toothpaste she had just used in the bathroom after her shower.

Walt swallowed. Her eyes were dark and her tone was low and intimate. Walt nodded, unable to vocalize his thoughts. Not when she was looking at him like that. Leaning farther over, she pressed her mouth against his. Walt responded, his hand rising up from the bed to cup her cheek softly. Vic slid her tongue into his mouth and deepened the kiss. She pushed herself up off her side and moved over him. Walt's hands shifted to her hips pulling her along. Vic pressed herself to him and felt him shudder in response. His body was responding exactly the way she wanted it to. He could see the satisfied smile on her face. She loved getting to him, getting under his skin.

She always had in various ways.

Walt briefly considered the possibility that she was using sex as a tactic of avoidance. But, tonight, she seemed different. Vic admittedly sometimes used him as a physical release. She was completely honest about that. She always had been. But, despite her clear determination to have him, there was some underlying softness to her touch. And to her mannerisms. It was different than anything he had seen from her before. More open in a way that was hard to describe.

He allowed her to press him fully onto his back and she kissed him again. Slow and deep. When she broke the kiss she pressed her face into his chest just above the buttons of his shirt. He could feel her breathing on his skin. The rate of his heart was increasing by the second. Walt felt her take a couple of deep breaths and then she sat back just a little, letting him take some of her weight and looked into his face. Her face was only inches from his. Her eyes were soft now. Tender really. She smiled at him again and let one hand run over his chest.

"Walt."

She said his name so low he nearly missed it. His hands still rested on her hips.

"Hmm?"

She leaned down again so that her mouth was next to his ear. It was a move that got him going every time. But, again, it somehow seemed different this time around.

"Make love to me."

Her request caught him off guard. Vic was normally aggressive and assertive in bed. Never shy. She gave all and demanded more. Being with her always left him exhausted in the best way, but this was something altogether different. Her eyes pulled him in making him feel almost hypnotized with their brightness.

He felt her body relax and she eased off of him. She lay down next to him, her hand trailing over his stomach and stopping just at his belt. Walt followed her with this eyes and his hand, leaning over and kissing her again. She rolled onto her side and slid her arms up his chest and around his neck, holding his face to hers. Walt lost himself in the feel of her and the warmth of her touch. The room was quiet, except for the low rustle of clothes being removed, the sheets moving over bare skin, and the low moans and gasping of breath that escaped them. Through it all, she whispered things into his ear that he couldn't understand. But none of that seemed to matter in the moment. All that mattered was the feel of her. Her hands were insistent, yet gentle in a way he couldn't remember feeling from her before.

She had always insisted to him there was a difference between having sex with someone just because and with someone you really cared for. Loved. Walt's sexual experience was somewhat limited due to marrying early and being with the same woman until her death. Beyond Martha, there were only experiences he would rather forget.

But this. This was something that felt different entirely.

xxx

"Walt, are you awake?"

Her voice came to him in the darkness of the unfamiliar room. The answer was barely, but yet. He had been drifting in and out of sleep for some time. She had caught him in a slightly more awake moment.

"Yep."

The room was dark except a sliver of light coming from the mostly closed bathroom door left on so they could find their way in unfamiliar surroundings. He felt her move a little after his answer.

"I wanted to see him because I thought it would help me."

Walt knew what she was talking about. He didn't need her to clarify.

"Did it?"

"Yes and no. But, I also realized that it…doesn't matter."

Walt turned his head slightly. He could just make out her profile.

"Why doesn't it matter?"

She moved again, turning onto her side. The move made her voice clearer.

"Because expecting…anything from him…just let him into my head over and over. Just like before. I don't…want him in my head. At all. I don't want him to have that kind of influence over me. Seeing him…or not…doesn't change anything. I'm the only one who can do that. I'm the only one with that kind of power."

He heard her voice shake ever so slightly.

"And now? How do you feel?"

He felt her hand ghost across his chest.

"Like I've taken that control back. Or…I feel like I have. In the long run, I think that's all that matters. That I feel in control. That's what he took from me…more than anything. And…I haven't gotten that back until today."

The sheets rustled and he could feel her body mesh against his. Walt shifted so that he could put his arm around her. It seemed to be what she was seeking from him. Touch. Closeness. Contact. Her head settled against his upper arm. Her fingers found his free hand and laced through his.

"That is all that matters, Vic. Anything that helps you move on from this."

In the darkness, he felt her head turn and her breath tickled his skin.

"Thank you, Walt."

He tilted his head towards hers.

"For what?"

She was quiet for a beat.

"For coming with me. I know it was a lot to ask. I wanted you to know that it…it means a lot to me."

He smiled.

"You couldn't have kept me away. This wasn't something to do alone, Vic."

"You're a fine one to talk about that."

Her tone was playful now.

"Yep."

Her elbow made light contact with his ribs and then he felt her rolling around again. Trying to get comfortable, he assumed. Finally, she seemed to settle in and fell still. Walt lay in the dark room listening to her breathe, until they both fell asleep.

xxx

She was up with the sun the next morning. Before Walt even opened his eyes, which was unusual. Under normal circumstances, he was usually up before anyone else. He rolled over in the hotel bed and stretched his arm out to find only empty space. Walt pushed himself up to a sitting position and looked around the room. It was quiet. The first rays of sunlight were just beginning to slip into the room through a small slit in the curtains where they met in the center. Walt listened but was met with only the quiet that surrounded him. The bathroom door was ajar but the light was off.

Frowning, he pushed the sheets off of himself and rose. Running his hand over his hair, he walked into the bathroom. Her overnight bag was there and open. Walt returned to the bed and pulled out his own bag, tugging his clean clothes free. He quickly dressed and was on the verge of pulling his boots on when the door opened. Sunlight streamed in along with Vic as she pushed through the door.

Walt dropped his boots back onto the floor and sat on the bed, looking at her curiously. He heard the familiar crinkle of paper bags and was hit with the aroma of coffee and something else he couldn't quite name. The door closed behind her with a click and she stuffed her key card into her back pocket.

"You're up."

Walt stood up and offered to take the bags from her. She passed them off and slipped her leather jacket off.

"Yeah, I woke up and you were gone."

She gave him a sheepish smile accompanied by a shrug.

"I was hungry."

She pointed at the bags.

"Breakfast."

Walt nodded and set the bags on the small round table in the room. Vic joined him, her arm brushing his as he freed two cups of coffee. She tapped one.

"That one's yours."

He smiled and passed her the other cup. Vic took a sip and set it down.

"There's a bakery just across the street. Their selection wasn't great, but I figured it might save us a little time. It's just some muffins and bagels. Take whatever you want. I'm good with any of it."

Walt rooted through the bag and pulled out a blueberry muffin. That was the smell that hit him when she came in. He took a bite and smiled.

"Good. Thanks."

She smiled and dug out a muffin for herself.

"You're welcome. I thought I might be back before you got up. Guess I should've left you a note."

Walt shrugged as he sipped his coffee.

"Your stuff was still here. I didn't figure you ran off and left me."

She smiled and tossed her muffin wrapper into the trash.

"We should be able to make it home in a few hours if we get on the road soon. I know Ferg is trying to hold it together."

Walt nodded as he polished off his breakfast.

"Yeah."

Vic rolled the bag up and wiped crumbs from her hand as she started to move around the room, packing up what few items were out and about. Walt did the same and within ten minutes, their bags were repacked and ready.

They loaded the truck and Vic held out the keys.

"Wanna drive?"

He took them with a smile and slid behind the wheel, waiting for Vic to get situated in the passenger seat before he turned the key and listened to the motor come to life. Pulling out, they left the small hotel and headed for Durant.

Walt wasn't sure how long he had been driving when she spoke. For a while, she had her elbow propped up on the door and her head supporting her hand. Wearing her sunglasses, he couldn't tell if she was asleep or if she was just being quiet.

"Can I ask you something?"

Walt bobbed his head.

"Sure."

Vic straightened up in her seat and turn a little so that she could see him.

"Did you and Donovan talk about anything?"

Walt stared ahead at the road.

"He asked me if you had mentioned anything about Miller."

She lifted her head and turned it towards him.

"What did you say?"

He kept his eyes on the road, one hand on the wheel and the other resting on his leg.

"I told him no."

She kept her eyes trained on him.

"So…you lied."

Walt shrugged.

"Nothing you've told me is relevant to his case and it wasn't formal questioning, anyway."

Vic sighed.

"He doesn't give up."

Walt shook his head.

"Not easily."

Vic bit her lip and glanced at him again.

"Were you going to tell me this?"

Walt shrugged again.

"It didn't strike me as overly important. Once I shut him down, he didn't say anything else about it. He was digging, as usual.""

He paused.

"You know that I wouldn't go behind your back and say anything without talking to you first, right?"

Vic met his eyes briefly before he turned back to the road.

"I would like to think that."

Walt's hand flexed slightly on the steering wheel.

"You almost sound like you don't trust me."

His voice strained a little.

Vic shook her head.

"Walt, I trust you more than anyone."

He considered asking her what she meant, but decided to leave it alone. So far the trip had been what he hoped and she seemed more at ease than she had in days. He didn't want to be the reason it ended on a sour note.

Vic turned her attention back to the window and the miles rolled by in relative silence. Walt glanced at her every so often. She seemed to be napping but not completely asleep. A few times, she shifted around in her seat like she was trying to get more comfortable. Walt's attention was grabbed a sign announcing they were finally closing in on Durant. He would be happy to be out of the truck and done with this. So far, the experience seemed mostly positive for Vic. That wasn't to say something he was privy to all of her thoughts but he had noted some differences in her since her conversation with Rainey Miller. And their own conversation back at the hotel.

"Vic?"

He said her name softly so as not to startle her. She sat up a little in her seat and turned her face.

"Hmm?"

She sounded groggy.

"Were you sleeping?"

She cleared her throat and stretched.

"I think I might've dozed off, yeah."

He smiled.

"We're almost home."

She nodded and looked out the window. They crossed into Absaroka County and Walt felt himself relax. There was something about being on his own territory that made him feel more relaxed. More balanced. He wondered if Vic felt that way. Or if she even considered Absaroka County as hers the way he did. Not being a native, maybe it was different for her.

Vic pulled her sunglasses of and rubbed at her eyes. He saw her glance at him in his peripheral vision. Her gaze lingered before she looked away.

"Thanks again for coming with me."

He had been expecting her to speak. She seemed like she was milling over something in her head when she looked at him a few seconds before. Walt nodded his head and offered her a quick smile.

"You're welcome. But…you don't have to thank me. I already told you that."

Her eyes drifted back to him.

"Yeah…I do. I'm not sure I could've done this alone. I'm not sure I would've wanted to."

They were on familiar roads now. Sparsely populated roads that led to the cabin. He needed to go to the station and check on things, but he would need his Bronco. Several minutes later, Walt pulled up to the cabin. Vic sat with her hand on the door handle.

"You going to work?"

Walt sighed.

"Yep."

He ran his hand over the steering wheel of her truck.

"You take the rest of the day."

She smiled a little.

"Oh…I planned on it."

He laughed lightly.

"Okay, then."

Walt opened the door and got out. He fished his overnight bag from the truck bed and hoisted it onto his shoulder. Vic came around the truck and lingered near the driver's side door. Walt stepped close.

"Come over tonight?"

He could see her considering it and he felt a knot in his stomach. She looked across the expanse that stretched out all around Walt's cabin and her expression looked thoughtful. Finally, she nodded slowly.

"Okay. Call me when you're home."

Walt hesitated, now unsure.

"Is something wrong?"

She shook her head.

"No."

Her simple answer did nothing for the sudden apprehension he was feeling. After the previous night at the hotel, he hadn't expected to feel this way any time soon. They had seemed so in sync the night before. So connected. Now she seemed distant all over again and it bothered him. He thought they had moved beyond this.

She broke the silent standoff with a step towards her truck.

"See you then."

Walt nodded and watched as she climbed into her truck. He stood and watched until she had backed out and started down the road, a trail of dust kicking up in her wake.


	13. Ch 12: In the End

**Ch. 12: In the End**

"Everything okay?"

Vic nodded. She lay on her side facing away from him. She felt the bed move as he scooted himself closer to her. His hand landed on her hip and then his fingers splayed out, partially covering her stomach.

"Yeah."

His mouth was close enough to her ear that she could feel the warmth of his breath.

"You're quiet."

Vic pressed her head into her pillow and brushed off his concerns.

"I'm fine, Walt. Just a little tired."

He sighed and settled in behind her, his hand staying in place. He knew everything wasn't fine. It hadn't seemed completely fine since her meeting with Rainey Miller. Sure, she was functioning like normal. But, something was off. Walt couldn't put his finger on it. But, he could sense it. There was something different in her. She was quiet. Which was completely unlike Vic.

"You can talk to me."

Vic could feel the frustration rising up to the surface.

"I know that."

Vic rolled onto her back so that she could look at him. Walt's eyes met hers. She wasn't being honest with him. She did want to talk to him, but she didn't know how to start it or how he would react. So much had passed between them since this whole mess started. Now, that things were returning to some version of normal, new thoughts were creeping in on her. More doubts. Ones that hadn't been there before when she was just trying to survive. Trying to get by.

"What are we doing?"

She blurted it out before she could reconsider her approach. Walt looked at her for a long quiet moment. It wasn't the first time she had come right out and asked him that. But, like everything else, she was fairly certain the answer wasn't the same.

She could tell by his expression that she had caught him off guard. Before he could answer, she pushed forward.

"Walt, I haven't been completely honest with you."

She could see the apprehension on his face.

"Okay."

"I…love you. I do."

Walt nodded.

"I know that, Vic. I love you. I've told you that."

"Yeah, I know. But…"

Walt was sitting up now, his eyes on her.

"But what?"

His words were soft in the quiet of the cabin.

"I'm afraid that…you've convinced yourself that you love me. But, that's it's not true."

His expression was somber.

"What have I done to make you think that?"

Vic shook her head.

"Nothing. I just…Walt, you protect people. It's what you do. It's who you are. It's what made you risk your job to come and find me."

Walt frowned.

"It wasn't just some misplaced sense of responsibility, Vic."

She paused.

"Are you sure about that?"

He was frustrated now. She could read it on his face.

"Where is this coming from? The night you talked to Miller, everything seemed so good between us. Vic, I can't tell you that last time I felt that connected to someone. But, since then, you seemed…disconnected. Like you're trying to pull away from me. I can't fix what I don't know. If you don't tell me what's wrong…I can't fix it."

She understood his point. And he was right.

"I'm afraid that I love you but that you don't return those feelings. Not in the same way."

"I…don't understand."

"Walt, you told me that if I hadn't been abducted…then you and I wouldn't have happened. So…I need the absolute truth. Is this what you want? Really want? Or are you just afraid of hurting me after everything?"

She regretted it as soon as she said it. In that moment, she could see the truth written on his face. Walt sighed.

"I…don't know how to convince you that my feelings are real. Do you honestly think I would sleep with you and lead you on like this if my feelings weren't genuine?"

Vic bit her lip and shook her head slowly.

"I hope not."

Walt tilted his head.

"All I've done is be honest with you. If you don't believe me…then we have a problem."

Vic pulled her eyes away from his and turned, planting her feet on the floor. Walt sighed.

"What are you doing?"

Vic pulled her pants from a pile on the floor and tugged them on, standing.

"You're right. But it's my problem. Not yours. I need to go. I need to think."

Walt tossed back the covers and stood up.

"Vic…"

She shook her head at him and pulled on the rest of her clothes.

"Walt, just…leave me alone. Okay?"

xxx

"How are you feeling?"

Vic had come to hate that question with an unrivaled passion. So many people had asked her that and the answer was always the same.

"Fine."

Dr. Weston glanced up at her face and focused his eyes on her. He was perceptive man.

"Really?"

Vic smiled a little. She couldn't help it. She liked Weston. It was hard not to. Vic's shoulders rose and fell in a shrug.

"Mostly."

Weston let go of her foot and sat up, his eyes still on her.

"What do you mean by mostly?"

Vic sighed and shifted on the exam table.

"Most of the time…I'm fine. Other times…it's harder."

Weston studied her with a practiced eye.

"Are you having nightmares?"

Vic looked down at her bare foot, still outstretched towards the doctor. She gestured at it.

"You done?"

He nodded and rolled his stool back a bit to give her space. Vic pulled her foot away and started to tug on her sock. Weston was still waiting for an answer to his question. Vic paused and nodded slowly.

"Sometimes. Not every night."

It was the truth. Had Walt been there, he could've vouched for her on that one. Some nights she slept just fine and others, she would wake up in a sweat and her heart racing. She knew it came with the territory. It was no different than her frame of mind following the Chance Gilbert mess.

"That's perfectly normal, Deputy, considering what you went through. If you like, I can give you something to help you sleep. Something mild."

Vic shook her head. It was tempting to turn to medication, but she knew that wouldn't solve anything in the long run.

"No, thanks. I think I can handle it. They're getting a little better."

Weston nodded.

"If you change your mind, let me know."

Vic smiled weakly.

"Okay."

She pulled her shoe on and tied the laces.

"So…how's the foot?"

Weston cleared his throat and nodded his approval.

"It's looking good. Very good. Are you still having any pain?"

Vic shook her head.

"No. No pain in the last day or so."

Weston lifted his clipboard and scribbled something on it. He lifted his eyes back to her.

"Does Walt know you're here?"

Vic frowned.

"What difference does that make?"

Weston held her gaze.

"None. But, he didn't seem overly eager for you to return to full duty. Yet here you are asking for just that."

Vic sighed.

"I've done everything that you told me to do. I've rested. I've taken care of the burns. I've been on desk duty. There's no good reason now why I can't do my job. All of it. Is there?"

Weston set the clipboard down and rubbed his eyes under his glasses before looking at her.

"Not physically. Your foot is healing well and if you're not in any pain, then you're right. Mentally may be a different story."

Vic tilted her head.

"Mentally?"

The word came out sharper than she intended. Weston merely nodded, ignoring her tone.

"Yes, mentally. Mental trauma can be worse than physical trauma and can take much longer to heal. Have you spoken to anyone?"

Another frown settled over her features.

"A psychiatrist? No, I haven't."

"Well, Deputy, that's not my specialty. So, that one is one you. The offer still stands for a recommendation if you like. Otherwise, I would say we are done here."

Vic gave him a hopeful look.

"Does that mean I can work?"

He nodded slowly.

"Yes, that means you can work."

Vic smiled at him.

"Could I get that in writing? You know…for my boss."

Weston smiled.

"Yes. I'll have the nurse bring you a release form."

He stood up, signaling they were finished. Vic slid from the exam table. Weston picked up his clipboard and started for the door. Reaching it, he paused.

"Take care of yourself."

Vic met his eyes.

"I will."

With that, he left the room and pulled the door closed behind him.

xxx

"Did you hear the news?"

Vic looked up at Ferg with a blank expression.

"What news?"

He sighed.

"About Rainey Miller."

Vic shook her head slowly. She had spent the last two hours at her desk catching up on reports and other paperwork she had been neglecting. With her earbuds in and her phone pumping music, no one had bothered her. Except for Ruby, the office had been empty up until Ferg had come bustling in just a few minutes before.

"No."

Ferg looked at her like she had lost her mind.

"He reached a plea deal with the feds."

The news wasn't particularly surprising considering the fact Donovan had mentioned they were working on a deal. Her face to face with him had been one of the negotiations on his part. Still, with only a week having passed since that meeting, she hadn't expected it to happen so fast. A million thought swirled through her mind.

"Oh."

Ferg continued to stare at her, like he was expecting some kind of real reaction. He would be disappointed. She thought for another moment and then shrugged. Ferg finally gave up and wondered off. Vic put her earbuds back in and turned her music back on, losing herself in her own little world.

She wasn't sure how much more time passed before she felt a light tap on her shoulder. Looking up and turning her head, she saw Walt standing behind her, still wearing his coat and holding his hat in his hands. Vic pulled her earbuds free and gave him a questioning look. Walt shifted under her gaze.

"Got a minute?"

Vic nodded. Turning her music off, she pushed up from her chair and trailed him into his office. She stood and waited while he pushed the door closed, hung up his hat, and removed his jacket. She could almost see him preparing himself to whatever he was about to say to her. Finally, he sat down behind his desk and leaned back.

"Are you okay?"

Her brow furrowed.

"Um…how so?"

Walt's eyes never wavered from hers.

"I assume you heard. About Miller?"

She nodded.

"Yeah, Ferg told me a little while ago."

Walt was studying her, looking for any signs that something was off.

"And how do you feel about it?"

Vic shrugged.

"How am I supposed to feel? Am I supposed to feel?"

Walt sighed.

"Vic…"

She held up her hand, cutting him off.

"I'm fine."

She reached into her back pocket and pulled out a folded sheet of paper.

"As a matter of fact, I'm fine enough to return to full duty."

She extended her hand and offered him the paper. After hesitating Walt took it. In the same deliberate and almost frustrating way approached most things, he unfolded it slowly and then glanced up at her.

"What's this?"

She nodded at it.

"Read it."

He looked down at the paper, running his eyes over it. She could see the unhappiness settle over him almost immediately. Walt looked back up at her.

"You went to see Weston."

Vic nodded.

"This morning?"

Walt laid the paper down on his desk and looked at it.

"You didn't mention that."

Vic had known he wouldn't just accept this.

"My foot is fine. There's no reason for me to be on desk duty."

Walt shifted his gaze away from hers.

"Vic…"

Vic shook her head.

"Walt."

She knew it drove him crazy when she did that. But, in all fairness, he made everything harder than it needed to be. She could see him trying to appease her.

"Can we talk about it at least?"

Vic gave him an impatient look.

"What's there to talk about? The burn is better."

He didn't see things as simply as she did. Since the night a couple of days ago when she left his cabin, he hadn't seen much of her outside of work. She had been shut down, closed off, and quiet. Otherwise, he would've know that she was seeing the doctor. Vic wasn't one to stay quiet about such things.

He sighed.

"Fine."

"Fine?"

Walt nodded.

"Fine. If Dr. Weston says you're better…then you're better."

Vic looked at him skeptically.

"That's it?"

Walt stood up.

"What do you want me to say? You want me to argue with you? Argue with the medical opinion of a doctor? What's the point? You have a form clearing you. My hands are tied. You win."

He sounded almost defeated.

"Walt…"

"This is what you wanted. So…I guess we're done here."

Vic stared at him.

"Are you dismissing me?"

She sounded bewildered. Walt shrugged.

"Isn't that what you've done? Dismiss me? Everything I've said to you?"

Vic felt the weight crash on her like a ton of bricks.

"I guess I have."

Walt placed his hands on his hips.

"I have given you the space you wanted. It hasn't been easy. But I've done it because I don't want you to feel controlled or suffocated. But…it feels like we're in some kind of stand-off. In some kind of purgatory."

Vic looked at him for a long moment. Words from the past echoing in her head.

"No man's land."

The words came out barely a whisper. Walt cocked his head.

"What?"

Vic snapped back to the present.

"Have dinner with me tonight?"

Walt looked taken aback.

"What?"

"Please, Walt. Have dinner with me."

He eyed her, unsure of what was happening.

"The RV?"

Vic shook her head.

"No the cabin. I'll bring something."

"O-kay."

He drug the word out.

"After work?"

"Yeah…that's fine."

Vic nodded, her eyes shifting around the room.

"Okay…good."

Turning, she left him standing there and wondering what exactly had just happened.

xxx

Vic pulled her truck over and got out. Tucking her hands into her jacket, walked around the back of the truck and looked up. Maybe Weston was right. Maybe she did need to talk to someone. Someone beside Walt. And besides herself. She wondered sometimes if she really wasn't nutting up completely. She let her back come to rest and looked up. The sun was just now sinking down to the horizon. She had left work early, needing air. Need to be away from everyone. She felt closed in lately. Like everyone was expecting something from her and she had nothing of any substance to offer them.

To offer him.

Deep inside, she knew that Walt loved her. Walt wouldn't lie to her about something like that. That was what her heart told her. It was her mind that wouldn't shut the hell up. It was her brain that repeatedly fed her lies and misconstrued his intentions. Told her that he was only with her because he was afraid that she would ultimately destroy herself if he told her the truth. That Walt was a caretaker and was willing to make sacrifices to keep people safe. That she was his responsibility.

She hated that word.

Vic wanted to roll her eyes at herself. She already had a few times. She was the one creating problems where one didn't exist. The one confusing Walt and making him feel the way she felt. And it wasn't fair.

But what was?

That had been a true question. Maybe taken out of context…but true.

Vic stood and watched the sun sink lower and lower, the colors changing as darkness started to overtake the light. Inside that was how she felt some days. Like darkness was threatening to overtake her and there wasn't anything she could do to fight it. But, if that were her analogy, then there was the fact that sun always rose in the morning and pushed the darkness back. It was a never ending cycle that repeated itself day after day. It was one of the only constants in this life.

The sun would set. The sun would rise. Over and over. Each day bringing with it the promise of a fresh start. She felt like she was out of fresh starts. Or that they didn't really exist at all. Hadn't she told Walt that once? That you couldn't start over.

By the river that night.

In the dark.

Vic sighed and pushed up off of her truck. She bowed her head and inhaled the cool air deeply. She turned one final time and looked at where the sun had been. It was gone. For another day. Lighting up some other part of the world and leaving her in darkness yet again. She pulled the handle on her truck door and opened it. The interior was cold now, the heat having dissipated while it sat in the night. She slid in and closed the door. Starting the truck, she pulled back onto the road and headed into the darkness.

xxx

Walt pulled the door to his cabin open. He had begun to wonder if she was even going to come. Vic stood there on his porch. She had clearly been home. She had changed from her uniform and duty jacket. One hand was tucked into her pocket and the other held a large paper bag. She held it out to him as she crossed into the cabin. Walt took the bag.

"What's this?"

He closed the door.

"Dinner. Just like I promised."

He had lost his appetite waiting for her.

"We don't have to eat it now if you don't want."

He nodded.

"Let me put it in the kitchen."

"Sure."

She slid her jacket off while he walked into his kitchen. When he returned, Vic was sitting on his couch, with her hands in between her knees. Walt paused. Vic looked up at him and smiled somewhat apprehensively. She placed one hand on the couch.

"Sit, Walt."

He did as she asked and took the seat beside her. His arm brushed hers when he took the seat. For what felt like an eternity, she was quiet. So, he waited.

"I owe you an apology."

Walt shifted his head to look at her.

"For what?"

His words were soft and his tone neutral.

"Um…everything."

Walt smiled a little.

"Vic…"

She placed her hand on his arm.

"Let me finish. I…am afraid to let myself be happy. Because, for so long…I haven't been. After I talk to Rainey last week, my head felt clear in a way it hasn't in some time. I…felt for the first time since this happened like I might be okay. You were right…that night at the hotel was…like nothing I've ever experienced."

She paused and ran a hand over her jeans.

"You make me feel things that no one has ever made me feel and it scares me. And not because it's new. But…because I could lose it. I could lose you. Or you could lose me. Hell, it almost happened before we ever got our shit straight. It was…that very thing that started all of this…between us."

Walt nodded. His eyes were intense, listening and processing what she was telling him.

"You…have been nothing but supportive and I haven't been supportive of you. And…that's not right. I have questioned your feelings and doubted you and I had no reason to. So…I'm sorry if I've made you feel like you've done something wrong. Because you haven't."

Walt swallowed.

"I don't accept your apology."

Her eyes darkened, but Walt only smiled.

"It's because you don't owe me one. Vic, you have been through hell and all the way back. You don't owe anyone an apology or an explanation for the way that affects you. And, to be honest, after that first night at the hotel…I questioned myself. And my own feelings. Up until then, I hadn't give you very much reason to have any faith in me. I've made some mistakes, too. Confusing you. Misleading you. And when you were already confused. So…I think we should just call it even on the apologies and move forward from here."

She smiled a little.

"Forward?"

Walt nodded.

"I love you. That is the absolute truth, Vic. Maybe we didn't start this thing under the most ideal circumstances, but…that doesn't change the way that I feel. If you need space to sort out your own feelings, I'll give you that."

She shook her head.

"I don't need space. I've had plenty of space. What I need is for everything to be out in the open. I woke up that morning after meeting with Rainey and I felt good for the first time since we went to look at that damn truck. It felt like a weight had been lifted. But then…I started to wonder if you were only with me because you felt bad and were too good of a man to be honest with me about that. I should've told you. I should've been honest with you then. It was unfair or me to blame you for my insecurities."

She leaned over and let her head come to rest on his shoulder.

"I love you, Walt. I have loved you for way longer than I care to admit. Maybe even when I was married. During all of this…those feelings have been the only source of light some days. And I am so afraid that I'm gonna fuck this up."

She felt him move with laughter.

"I think we're afraid of the same thing."

She turned her face into his arm and pressed her mouth against the material of his shirt, her mouth curving up in a smile.

"Are you hungry now? After all that?"

"A little, yeah."

Vic sat up and took his hand, pulling him up to his feet.

"C'mon then. I went by the Red Pony."

She tugged him into his feet and towards the kitchen.

xxx

"That was good. Thanks for dinner."

Vic smiled.

"I kind of owe you for a lot of meals. So…you're welcome."

Walt smiled in return. Conversation during dinner had been purposefully light. She had unloaded on him and hoped like hell it hadn't scared him away. So far, he seemed okay. They seemed okay. But, now, there were no distractions. Nothing to hide behind or use to deflect real feelings and real conversations.

Vic trailed Walt back to his couch. She sat down and leaned into him as she seemed so fond of doing. Walt ran his fingers through her hair.

"Can I ask you something?"

Vic nodded.

"Sure."

"How do you really feel about this deal? And don't say fine or okay."

He heard her inhale deeply.

"I don't know. And that's the truth. I mean…I feel like I should just be happy it's being resolved and he's off the street. But…at the same time…it kind of stings to know he may never face any actual punishment for what he did to me personally. I guess it's kinda selfish."

Walt shook his head.

"No…it's not. It's normal. And…I'm sure you're not the only one who feels that way. But…maybe there will be charges. Down the road…who knows?"

She shrugged.

"I don't think it would change anything anyway. I mean…what's done is done. Can I ask you something?"

Walt smiled.

"Yeah."

"Why do you blame yourself?"

He was quiet. She expected that. Anticipated it.

"Because I left you there."

"And you had no way of knowing what would happen. It's the same choice you would've made with Ferg or…anyone else. I blamed myself, too, Walt. For allowing it to happen. I mean…I told myself that I should've fought more. But you know what? Then…I might be dead. It wasn't your fault and it wasn't mine. It was his. Theirs. The three of them."

She grew quiet and he could see her bite her lip, a sure sign she as thinking.

"There's one more thing I need to know."

Walt felt trepidation at her tone.

"I need you to answer me honestly, Walt. Don't tell me what you think I want to hear."

"Okay."

She turned her face so that she was looking at him.

"Did you have sex with me that first night out of pity or guilt?"

The question hung between them. Heavy.

"Yes and no. I would be lying if I told you I didn't feel guilty about what happened. The whole time you were missing, I blamed myself. Told myself I should've been there. I should've done a better job of keeping you safe. And then…there you were. In the flesh. And I was relieved and I wanted to be with you in every way possible because we were both alive and we were together. But…it wasn't out of pity. My feelings were real. I was…confused…but they were real."

She nodded at his answer, digesting it.

"So all the problems you brought up then…do they still exist?"

"Yes."

Vic dipped her face away from him. He quickly moved his hand to her leg.

"But…they aren't problems that we can't deal with."

She raised her face back to meet his eyes.

"It won't be easy. I'm not easy."

He smiled.

"Trust me I know."

Vic huffed. Walt's smile grew.

"But…I'm not easy either. I think we both know what we're dealing with here."

She smiled at him, her eyes brighter than he had seen in some time.

"Yeah, you're right about that. So…I think that we should move forward. At our own pace. With our own rules. Or…no rules at all."

Walt nodded.

"Do you know what I think?"

"What?"

He stood up and held his hand out to her.

"That you should stay tonight."

Vic took his hand and let him pull her up onto her feet.

"I think that you are right about that."

**6 Months Later**

Vic pushed the door closed behind her and dropped into her chair. Leaning back, she let out a breath. Ferg looked up at her from where he sat.

"Something wrong?"

Vic rolled her head back and looked up at the ceiling.

"Yeah. Why is it everyone wants to argue when they get a ticket? I mean…you were going twenty over and you ran a stop sign. What in the hell? Don't be a douche."

Ferg smiled and shook his head.

"If you figure it out…let me know."

She rolled her eyes and sighed. Hearing movement from Walt's office, Vic turned her head. Ruby looked at her and smiled.

"Vic, you're back."

"Yeah, did you need me?"

Ruby shook her head and walked over to her desk.

"You have mail."

Vic frowned.

"Mail?"

Ruby nodded and handed her a battered looking envelope. Vic looked at it curiously and shrugged. Without much thought, she ripped it open and pulled out a single sheet of paper that was folded in half. The handwriting was somewhat messy cursive that she had to stare at for a few minutes to decipher. Vic felt a rush of blood to her head and something in her stomach rolled.

"Vic?"

It sounded like an echo. Far away. Then, there was a hand on her shoulder and she snapped out of wherever she was. Ruby was the one touching her. A gentle hand on her, resting there unmoving. Ruby's eyes held concern. Vic's eyes moved from her to Ferg, who looked equally worried.

"Vic, what's wrong?"

It was Ruby speaking to her. Vic stood up abruptly, shaking her head.

"Nothing."

Clutching the simple sheet of paper tightly in her hand, she looked away from both of them and crossed the office to the door marked Reading Room. She went inside and pulled the door closed behind her. Vic lowered the toilet lid and sat down, staring at the paper in her hands.

Her hands were shaking slightly when she unfolded it again and looked back down at the paragraphs scrawled across the white sheet. Just words. Nothing that could actually hurt her. So, why had it shaken her so much?

Vic swallowed and inhaled deeply, trying to gain control over herself. She hated thing affecting her like this was. Gradually, her hands stilled and her heart slowed. The light feeling in her head ceased. And she was grounded again. She was sitting in the bathroom at work.

Safe.

She took another deep breath and looked down at the paper, allowing herself to read them all. All the way through. Willing her body to not react. Her mind to maintain control when she felt slipping through her fingers like sand. That was the feeling she hated the most.

Loss of control.

She would not allow him to take that from her again.

They were only words. It was only paper. There was nothing it could do to hurt her.

Nothing.

It was a letter.

Nothing more.

_Vic,_

_I've started this letter at least a dozen times. Every time, I've thrown it away. I'm sure you don't really want to hear anything I have to say. But I need to get this off my chest before something happens and I don't get the chance. We talked about that didn't we? Not getting the chance? Something like that. I need to tell you that I lied to you when you came to see me all those months ago. I wanted to be honest with you, but on some level I'm a damn coward. So here it is._

_I wanted to kill you._

_Until I didn't._

_Fucked up right? I know. I have a hard time with it, too. I hate cops. Always have. I've always been on one side and they've always been on the other. But, to be honest, I've never really known a cop. Not really. Not until you. And I found something that was hard to digest. You were a person. Just like me. I know you're rolling your eyes and shaking your head. But, it's the truth. Deep down you and me aren't so different. _

_I have done a lot of shit. I take responsibility for that. I've hurt people. I never really felt bad about it either. Not until you. I don't know why you were different. I guess it's not important. You asked me why I let you go. I played it down. I lied. I let you go because I wanted to. Because I wanted you to live. That's it. No big secret. No deep dark confession. It doesn't change anything and there's no absolution. But that is the truth as well I know it myself. You can believe it or not. _

_In the end, it doesn't matter. In the end, we all have to live with ourselves and the choices we made. And that's one choice in my life that I don't regret. Whether you believe me or not I am sorry for hurting you. And I hope that you are okay. _

_Rainey_

A knock on the door startled her.

"Vic?"

His voice came through clearly. Vic stood to her feet and glanced in the mirror. It wasn't until she saw her reflection that she realized she was crying. Tears were streaming down her face, leaving tracks in their wake. She swiped a hand across, wiping them away.

Walt was standing there when she opened the door, worry etched into his weathered features. He took her in.

"Vic."

That was it. Just her name. She waved him in. Walt stepped into the small room and Vic closed the door behind him.

"Ruby said something about mail and then you rushed in here. What's wrong?"

His tone was tender enough to melt her. She held out the letter.

"Read it."

Walt took the paper from her and she watched as his eyes drifted over it, line by line. His expression never changed. When he was done, he lifted his eyes to her and offered her the letter back. She took it and folded it up, shoving it into her back pocket. Walt shifted on his feet.

"Is that the first time you've heard from him?"

Vic crossed her arms over her chest.

"Yeah."

"Are you okay?"

She shook her head slowly.

"I want to be."

"But?"

"But, this letter…"

Her voice faded along with the words she was trying to get out. Walt reached out and placed his hand on her shoulder. He dipped his face closer to hers.

"There's nothing wrong with this letter affecting you. It doesn't make you weak, Vic. It makes you human."

"I know."

Her voice was so low, he had a hard time hearing her.

"I didn't mean to scare Ruby or Ferg. I just…I needed a minute."

Walt nodded.

"They'll understand. Do you want to be alone?"

Vic dropped her arms to her side.

"No."

He lifted his and touched her face.

"You were crying."

She nodded.

"Yeah. But…I'm okay. It was just…a surprise. That's all."

His thumb brushed over her cheek and then fell away. She inhaled shakily.

"Do you mind if I take the rest of the day?"

Walt shook his head.

"No. Do what you need to do. We'll manage."

She smiled and let her forehead rest briefly on his chest before she stepped back.

"Thanks."

xxx

"You want to tell me what happened?"

Vic smiled wryly.

"A piece of paper scared the shit out of me."

She laughed at her own bad joke and then shook her head, leaning forward and resting her arms on her legs. They were sitting on the cabin porch watching the sunset.

"Isn't funny how you can think you're over something and one tiny thing can bring it roaring back? That's what happened. It just caught me off guard. No permanent damage."

Walt's hand landed on her back.

"Don't make light of it, Vic."

She smiled at him.

"I'm not. Trust me. But I can't go back there, Walt. Back into that darkness. It's like a black hole that you can't escape from. I just needed to remind myself that I am the one in control. Reading the letter was my choice. That's an important distinction to make. I could have thrown it away and pretended it never happened."

Walt glanced at her and then turned his eyes towards the distance.

"So…why did you read it?"

She shrugged.

"I dunno. Maybe on some level, I still want answers. Maybe sheer curiosity. I can't say."

He nodded.

"There's one thing I'm curious about."

She looked at him.

"What?"

"Why did it make you cry? I think that's the first time I've seen you cry during all of this."

She turned her eyes away.

"I didn't even realize I was crying. I…he and I affected each other whether we like it or not. Even if I never see him again…I'm part of his life and he's part of mine. I think…that's the first time I admitted that to myself. I think we like to tell ourselves that things don't bother us. That to let them bother us…makes us weak somehow. But, I know now that's not true. Everything we go through affects us. The only thing we can try and do is learn from those experiences and move on as best we can. I like to think that I've done that. Moved on. Learned from it."

Walt reached over and placed his hand over hers.

"You have. We both have."

She smiled.

"I guess this was your experience, too. Just in a different way."

She looked out at the sunset.

"Would you believe me if I told you I still don't hate him?"

His hand still lingered, warming her through her shirt.

"I believe you. That's not a bad thing, Vic. Hate…does things to you. It changes you."

"I know."

Vic let out a heavy sigh and looked out at the sun setting.

"It's beautiful here. I like being here."

Walt smiled.

"I like you being here, too."

She laughed and bumped him with her arm. Vic closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. When she opened them, she turned to him.

"What are the odds I can convince you to go in late to work tomorrow? I'm off, you know."

She stood up and walked to the edge of the porch. Walt stood up slowly and followed her.

"I would say your odds are pretty good."

In the semi-darkness her hand found his and laced their fingers together. His hand felt warmer than hers and she tightened her grip.

"Do you know what I like about the sunsets?"

Walt shook his head.

"No. What's that?"

She gave his hand a tug.

"It always comes back up in the morning. There's no real end."

**_Author's Notes: That's it. I hope you liked it. Thank you for all of the beautiful words. Until next time..._**


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